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Never was there a lovelier picture than Randy as she sat 
with her g*uitar, picking its strings. — Page 7. 


^be IRanb^ Boobe 

I 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


BY 


AUTHOR OF 


AMY BROOKS 

M 

“THE RANDY BOOKS,” “DOROTHY DAINTY SERIES,” 
“ A JOLLY CAT TALE ” 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 


Oh - 14- ISO> 


\\ 


Published^ August ^ 1906 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
TwoCodIcs Received 

JUL 7 1906 





Copyright, 1906, 

BY Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Company 


All Rights Reserved 


Randy’s Loyalty 



NORWOOD PRESS 


BERWICK & SMITH CO, 
Norwood, Mass, 

U. 5. A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTEE I 

Eandy 7 

CHAPTER II 

A Subject for Gossip 26 

CHAPTER III 

House-Warming 44 

CHAPTER lY 

A Little Culprit 64 

CHAPTER Y 

A Hasty Resolve 80 

CHAPTER YI 

A Test of Loyalty 99 

CHAPTER YII 

Jabez Brimblecom^s Scheme 119 

3 


4 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER VIII page 

A Familiar Face 140 

CHAPTER IX 

Loyal to Jotham 163 

CHAPTER X 

Three Letters 177 

CHAPTER XI 

The Return 198 

CHAPTER XII 

Local Gossip 308 

CHAPTER XIII 

Rivals 330 

CHAPTER XIV 


At the Festival 


335 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Never was there a lovelier picture than Eandy 
as she sat with her guitar, picking its strings 
(page 7) “ Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Land o’ liberty ! Who’s that ’ere ? ” ... 50 

^<Wal, I’m Mrs. Jehiel Hinks” 104 ' 

She had risen from the low garden seat, and 

had moved toward him 174 ' 

She extended her hands and lifted her eyes in 
mute supplication 195 

Well, Caleb Ware ! So ye’re givin’ me er 
second-hand invitation, are ye ? ” .... 232 



EANDTS LOYALTY 


CHAPTER I 

BANDY 

The fresh breeze set the leaves dancing, 
swayed the hollyhocks, swung the long 
branches of the grapevine, and, pushing the 
leaves apart as with caressing fingers, 
let the tiny sunbeams through that they 
might dance upon the grass. It wafted the 
music of a guitar as if on wings until it 
seemed entrancing, so sweet, so tinkling 
were its cadences. One had not far to look 
for the source, and never was there a lovelier 
picture than Randy as she sat with her 
guitar, picking its strings the while she 
indulged in day dreams. She was her Aunt 
Miranda’s namesake, and it was Aunt Mi- 
randa who had taught her to play. 

“ You look as I did, Randy, and as I used 


8 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


to play the guitar, it would please me to 
teach you, and to see you picking the strings 
and making the sweet music which only the 
guitar can give.” 

Eandy loved Aunt Miranda, and would 
have done anything which could give her 
pleasure, and she practiced persistently 
until she had acquired a fine touch and tech- 
nique, and now the guitar was a dear com- 
panion. The wind blew the little soft-curl- 
ing locks of her hair, and, for the moment, 
the guitar lay idly in her lap. She was 
thinking of beautiful Aunt Miranda. What 
a joy it had been to have her with them. 
When a young girl she had married Clement 
Carlton, and because of parental opposition 
to the match the young couple had left the 
village and in the glorious West had sought 
Fortune’s favor. The goddess had given 
them more than they had ever dreamed of 
acquiring, and now they were to have a 
grand house-warming in the beautiful home 
which they had chosen. 

Bandy’s lips parted in a sunny smile as 


UANDY 


9 


she thought of pleasant things which were 
being said of dear Aunt Miranda and her 
stalwart husband. She gave little thought to 
the fact that Jotham was to be her escort: 
if her attention had been called to the mat- 
ter, Kandy would have looked up with gentle 
surprise, and have wondered that anyone 
should have thought it worth mentioning. 
Had not Jotham Potts always been her 
faithful friend since they were children? 
Was he not always her escort at any of the 
village social events, unless it happened that 
Arthur Earnshaw or some other euterpris- 
ing youth had shown amazing zeal in has- 
tening to Randy in order that he might be 
the first to ask the pleasure of her company? 
Surely, a friendship of so long standing was 
not a matter for comment; it was an every- 
day affair, a matter of course. 

Again she picked the strings, playing a 
merry little song in keeping with her mood. 
Soft footsteps were approaching; a little 
girl, whose pretty face was framed with an 
abundance of fiaxen hair, came rapidly 


10 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


along the path, advancing until she stood 
near Randy. 

“ Why, Janie McLeod ! I never heard a 
footstep, never dreamed that anyone was 
near me until I saw you before me. You 
must be a fairy to flit over the ground so 
lightly.” 

The little girl laughed merrily. She loved 
Randy, and had stolen softly toward her to 
give her a surprise. 

“ I’m nae elfln,” she said, ‘‘ ’though I’ve 
been trying some spells this morning. Sandy 
said tae me' at daybreak : ‘ Fill your shoon 
wi’ fern seed, an’ whate’er you wish be, 
’twill be granted.’ ” 

“ And did you? ” Randy asked, her merry 
gray eyes showing her amusement. 

“ Indeed, an’ truly,” Janie earnestly re- 
plied ; “ an’ there’s mair in them than I can 
weel step wi’. I fllled them to o’erflowin’, 
an’ Sandy laughed at me. ‘ Where will ye 
put yer foot, Janie? ’ he asked, an’ in truth 
I had tae spill some oot before I could get 
my feet in the shoon. Well, ye need nae 


BANDY 


11 


laugh,” she continued, “ for I wished gude 
wishes, an’ may they come tae pass.” 

“I wish it, too,' Janie,” Randy responded, 
at the same time drawing the little girl 
toward her. 

“ There’s nae ane I’d sooner tell my 
wishes tae than tae yoursel’, Randy, dear,” 
said Janie, “ an’ sometime I will, but they 
must nae be tellit until they hae time tae 
come true. I hae wished something fine for 
a’most everyone in the village. Would the 
elves grant sae mony gude things, do you 
think? ” she asked eagerly. 

“ I couldn’t guess,” Randy answered, 
“ but tell me, Janie, did you wish for some- 
thing for yourself? ” 

‘‘ That’s the verra thing that Sandy asked 
me, an’ truly I didna, for by the time I’d 
wished for a’ the dear folks hereaboot, I’d 
forgotten mysel’.” 

‘‘ Oh, Janie, Janie ! I hope the elves will 
remember you, you generous little friend, 
and give you something finer than you would 
have asked for yourself,” said Randy. 


12 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


“ I hae my voice that the elves didna gie 
me; Ane higher than they blessed me wi’ it,” 
said Janie, reverently. 

“ And a blessing it is,” said Kandy, ear- 
nestly. “ Think of the joy which your sing- 
ing gives to your friends, and when you are 
older, the great public shall hear it and be 
delighted with its rare music.” 

“ The music maester says it’ll nae be a 
great while before I will be singing before 
crowded houses. Think o’ the gudeness o’ 
Sandy an’ his gude wife tae gie me a hame 
an’ the music lessons, too. I’ll repay them 
wi’ love; they hae nae need o’ money.” 

“ Your love is like sunshine in their home; 
they often say so,” Randy replied. 

As if a thought had suddenly occurred to 
her, the little lass turned, and regarded 
Kandy. 

“Did ye notice? I’m speakin’ braw 
Scotch, and the music maester told me only 
yesterday that I must advance as quickly in 
my speech as in my music. I’ll put my mind 
on it and say much, instead of muckle, and 


RANDY 


13 


home, instead of hame, and to, instead of 
tae. I do when I remember, and I must re- 
member. Now play ‘ Bonny Prince Charlie,’ 
and I’ll sing it and say every word as I 
should.” 

The silvery tones of the guitar made a fine 
accompaniment, and Janie’s marvelous 
voice rang out upon the air in the rollick- 
ing Scotch ballad. Then, as if for contrast, 
she sang bewitchingly that beautiful song, 
“ Bid Me to Love.” Randy, unfamiliar with 
the music, strummed an impromptu accom- 
paniment. Sweetly Janie sang: 

“I do not ask for the heart of thy heart 
I do not bid thee remain, or depart, 

Let me but love thee, and I will not plead. 
Aught save to follow where’er thou may’st lead.** 

Janie sang as if her heart were in the 
song, and one who listened clasped his rug- 
ged hands as he murmured, “ Bless the 
bairnie.” 

The bushes parted and Sandy McLeod ap- 
proached, his eyes bright and his cheeks 


14 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


flushed with pleasure. “ Aye, a fine pair o’ 
songsters ye be, an’ I here in time for the 
braw music. Ne’er did I hear music mair 
sweet, an’ a’ by luck, for a wee errand took 
me tae the Squire’s, an’ on my way I find 
mysel’ i’ the nick o’ time for the bonny 
concert.” 

“We never dreamed that we had an audi- 
ence,” said Randy. 

“ An’ ye doubtless sang a’ the better for 
that.” Sandy responded, “ an’ havin’ had the 
pleasure. I’ll be goin’ on tae do the errand 
on which my Margaret hae sent me. She’s 
in a great twitter o’ excitement because o’ 
the fine time in store for half the village 
at yer Aunt Miranda’s.” Randy and Janie 
accompanied the genial old Scotchman, 
and in the cheery sitting-room they joined 
the family and soon all were merrily talk- 
ing of the anticipated event. 

The Weston house was not the only 
house, however, in which the house-v"arming 
formed an interesting topic for conversation. 


BANDY 


15 


For weeks little else had been talked of, and 
no one was more intensely excited over her 
costume than good Mrs. Buffum. Blessed 
with a large family her hands rarely lacked 
a task to occupy them, yet on this sunny 
morning she sat at her kitchen window, gaz- 
ing out upon the fields. No thought had she 
of the bread which was waiting to be 
kneaded, or of the basket of carefully 
sprinkled clothes over which no iron had 
passed. 

“Wal, I declare! Ye look’s if ye was 
dreamin’. Ain’t ye got any jobs ter do this 
hot day? Ain’t it mejum hot fer this time er 
year? Why, ye don’t answer! Ye ain’t 
gittin’ deef, be ye? ” 

Mrs. Hodgkins paused before the window 
and fanned herself vigorously with her 
apron. 

“Come in, won’t ye?” asked Mrs. Buf- 
fum, and, without waiting to be urged, Mrs. 
Hodgkins entered, but not before Mrs. Buf- 
fum had hastily placed the bread-pan in the 
pantry, dusted a chair for her caller with 


16 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


her soiled apron, and tossed the apron into 
the chopping-tray which stood upon the 
pantry shelf. She had aimed the apron at 
a drawer which stood open, which was the 
only probable reason why it landed in the 
tray. 

“ Ye look kind o’ flurried, don’t ye? Ye’ve 
seen me off’ n’ on these twenty years, so I 
shouldn’t think my cornin’ in fer er minute 
would make ye narvous.” 

Mrs. Hodgkins’s keen eyes had detected 
her neighbor’s flushed cheek, and knew that 
she had hurriedly hidden something before 
opening the door for her guest. She sat 
down in the proffered rocker, and her eyes 
roved about the room, intent upon spying 
anything unusual in the arrangement of 
furniture, or if any article generally in view 
were absent. 

“ Cur’ous what she hid,” she muttered. 

“ I didn’t hear what ye said,” said Mrs. 
Buffum. 

“ I’ll ask ye what ye’re talkin’ er wearin’ 
up ter Mis’ Miranda Carlton’s, come Tues- 


BANDY 


17 


day? ” Mrs. Hodgkins asked as if repeating 
a question. 

“ Ye didn’t ask that afore.” 

“ Wal, I do’no’s I did, but I’m askin’ it 
naowN Mrs. Hodgkins retorted. 

“ That’s what I was thinkin’ ’baout when 
ye came by the winder,” said Mrs. Buffum, 
an’s I’ve only two dresses ter choose from, 
it Stan’s ter reason I’ll hev ter wear one er 
t’other.” 

‘‘ I call ye lucky.” 

“ Why do ye say that? ” 

“ What else could I say? ” demanded Mrs. 
Hodgkins; “ye’ve two dresses to choose 
from; I’ve got one, so there ain’t much use 
for me ter set in my winder wonderin’ what 
I’ll wear. I’ll go to the house-warmin’ with 
my great Aunt Statiry’s green silk on, or 
I’ll hev ter go with no gaown on at all ; but 
what’s yer second gaown. Mis’ Buffum? ” 
she paused to ask. “ I’ve seen ye with yer 
Cousin Keziah’s tea-colored silk ; what’s yer 
other one? Was that what ye rushed ter put 
away ’fore lettin’ of me in?” 


18 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


Good land, no ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Buf- 
fum ; “ I ain’t had the other dress daown ter 
look at fer years. I’ve had it put away in 
a old valise that was full er the smell er 
camfire, an’ I’m baound ter wear it ef I kin 
air the camfire out’n it. It’s er pooty gaown, 
blue with pink sprigs on it, an’ they do say 
that when Keziah wore it she cut er ’mazin’ 
figger, an’ I’ve set my mind on wearin’ it an’ 
cuttin’ ’nother figger on my own hook.” 

“ But I see yer Cousin Keziah jist ’baout 
the time she up an’ went ter New York State 
ter live, an’ that time she was some thin, not 
ter say skinny. Bein’s ye’re what most folks 
call mejum stout, I’m wonderin’ haow on 
airth ye’ll git it on.” 

A light of triumph illuminated Mrs. Buf- 
fum’s eyes as she replied; “I’ve got that 
planned. I wondered, an’ wondered, an’ at 
the very minute ye stopped at the winder I’d 
arriv at a conclusion. I’ve got some silk, ter 
be sure it’s different color, but I sha’n’t let 
that stop me. I’ll rip the seams at the sides 
er the waist an’ put in er piece er the light- 


BANDY 


19 


braown silk. That’ll make it big ’nough ter 
go ’raound me.” 

“Land o’ Goshen! Haow it’ll look! ” ex- 
claimed Mrs. Hodgkins, staring at her 
friend as if questioning the wisdom of wear- 
ing such a dress when another ’one was 
possible. 

“ Look ! ” Mrs. Buffum said, the one word 
spoken in fine disdain. “ Look ! ” she re- 
peated, “ why, nobody’ll see the braown silk 
piece put in under the arms. Thank good- 
ness, I ain’t one er them as is always ges- 
ticerlatin’ an’ sawin’ the air with my arms 
ter show what I mean when I talk. I kin 
say all I hev ter say in er way that folks’ll 
understand ’thout fiappin’ my arms up an’ 
daown like the wings of er goose ter give 
an extry whack ter my meanin’.” 

“ Ye don’t say ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Hodg- 
kins, too greatly impressed to make further 
remark until a moment later, when she has- 
tened to ask a question which suddenly sug- 
gested itself. 

“Do ye feel sure ye kin keep yer arms 


20 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


daown ter hide them pieces the hull evenin’ 
’thout liftin’ of ’em by mistake? ” 

“Wal, I guess I kin. Sure’s my name’s 
Bufifum, ye don’t ketch me er liftin’ my arms 
ef the roof’s blown off with er bomb shell.” 

This was a strong statement, and Mrs. 
Hodgkins looked at her friend in admira- 
tion. She thought it foolish to wear a gown 
which called for the exercise of such control 
over one’s movements, but she admired the 
firm will which could conceive and carry out 
such a novel plan for appearing in rich ap- 
parel. As she trudged along the road 
toward home, she continued to wonder if 
Mrs. Buffum’s power of endurance would 
be equal to the strain. She was vaguely 
aware that while she did not actually wish 
that the good woman might display her 
peculiar makeshift, she could not help think- 
ing it would be amusing if such a thing 
should happen. 

“ She couldn’t eat with her elbows glued 
to her sides,” she said to herself ; then a glee- 
ful light made her eyes twinkle. 


RANDY 


21 


“ Ef at the spread, somebo^y’d jest offer 
her er cup er tea, she hev ter take it, fer she’s 
jest paowerful fond of it, an’ she couldn’t 
noways git er cup er tea ter her face ’thout 
er liftin’ of her arms. I vaow, Mis’ Buffum 
shall hev her tea if I hev ter hand it ter her 
myself. I don’t want ter be mean, but she’s 
declared that she kin spend the hull evening 
at the haouse-warmin’ an’ never once fer- 
git ter keep her arms daown, an’ I say she 
can’t; it can’t be did. Naow, ef I say I’d 
be tickled ter see her lift her elbows an’ show 
them pieces er light-braown silk sewed inter 
her blue-sprigged silk ter make the waist 
big ’nough ter go raound, I do’no’s I’m spe- 
cial mean. One thing I forgot to ask her, 
an’ that riles me some. The last time I 
seen that gaown, her Cousin Keziah wms 
what ye might call er narrer figger, an’ her 
neck looked like er gridiron or er wire 
toaster, but Mis’ Buffum’s tremenjous fat, 
an’ I wonder ef she’s goin’ ter wear that low- 
necked gaown same’s Keziah did, er whether 
she’ll fill in the neck with some other kind 


23 


EANDrS LOYALTY 


er silk. Land sakes! Ef she patches it 
under the arms an’ raound the neck, it’ll 
look like a patchwork bedquilt when she gits 
it on. An’ anyway, I do wonder what she 
hid ’fore she opened the door fer me.” 

It was late in the forenoon when she 
knocked at the door of a little cottage and 
impatiently waited for admittance. She 
heard a door creak, then after a long pause 
someone who evidently wished to have her 
footsteps inaudible, tiptoed softly across the 
floor. Another pause, during which a cur- 
tain was drawn aside and then someone 
hurried to the door. 

‘‘ Why, it’s you ! ” exclaimed the hostess. 
“ I thought ye was that pesky tin-peddler 
what always comes by here of a Tuesday. I 
waited ter peek ’fore lettin’ of ye in; ef ’t 
was him, I wasn’t goin’ ter the door. He 
stays an hour ’n a half whether ye buy er 
not, an’ gin’rally asks fer er lunch. Last 
time he stopped he give me er tin dipper fer 
a ole gaown, a ole coat an’ traowsers, an’ 
land knows haow many rags, an’ when it 


BANDY 


23 


come ter lunch he was the beater-ee! He 
said his conscience wouldn’t let him eat pie, 
an’ his dyspepsy wouldn’t let him eat dough- 
nuts, an’ fer some reason er other he didn’t 
like ter eat bread, an’ his religion wouldn’t 
let him eat pork. I mus’ say I was mad, an’ 
I told him that I was sorry ter hev ter tell 
him that my charity wouldn’t let me give 
him frosted cake.” 

“ Wal, I swan ! ” ejaculated Mrs. Hodg- 
kins, “ I didn’t know ye had so much spunk, 
Almiry. I didn’t, truly, ef ye be my niece. 
One thing I’ll tell ye, haowsomever; ef ye 
intend ter keep yer door shet, an’ ye want 
ter sneak across the floor an’ peek aout the 
winder ’fore lettin’ folks in, ye’d better git 
some different boots, fer I beared every step 
ye took, an’ knew ye was squintin’ at me 
from a chink ’fore ye told me. Naow I’ve 
jest come from Mis’ Buffum’s, an’ she’s full 
er fixin’ up er gaown ter show off in at the 
haouse-warmin’, an’ I guess she expects ter 
cut quite er figger.” 

Then followed a description of Mrs. Buf- 


24 


BANDY'S LOYALTY 


fum’s plans for making tke small waist con- 
form to her ample figure. 

“An’ I had ter leave her haouse without 
hevin’ faound aout what she hid ’fore open- 
in’ the door ter let me in. Don’t ye call that 
provokin’, Almiry? ” 

“ Wal, yes, ’tis,” agreed Mrs. Meeks ; “ but 
one thing I do know, she’s got er bead neck- 
lace that she’s tellin’ all ’round b’longed ter 
her husband’s first cousin’s sister’s hus- 
band’s oldest daughter, and naow it b’longs 
ter her. She’s goin’ ter wear that because 
her gaown’s goin’ ter be low-necked. Ain’t 
it scandalous fer the mother of nine chil- 
dren, five of ’em still ter home, ter wear er 
low-necked gaown? ” 

“ I do’no’,” Mrs. Hodgkins replied, with 
a puzzled air ; “ what’s nine children got ter 
do with the neck of her gaown, Almiry? ” 

“ Why, she’d oughter be less fiighty ; don’t 
ye say so? ” 

“ Flighty ! Flighty ! ” Mrs. Hodgkins 
gasped, shaking with merriment. “ Flighty ! 
Land, but that’s funny, an’ her er weighin’ 


BANDY 


25 


over two hundred, and jest the shape of er 
tub. Ye don’t often make er joke, Almiry, 
but ye made one this time.” 

“ She don’t weigh no two hundred ; why, 
I weigh er hundred, thin’s I be, an’ she 
wouldn’t weigh over twice that heft,” Mrs. 
Meeks replied. 

Mrs. Hodgkins stopped laughing. “Al- 
miry,” she said, “ ye weigh er hundred, an’ 
yer as flat as er shad, an’ ef Mis’ Buffum 
weighs a aounce, she weighs two hundred 
an’ ten at the least cal’lation.” 


CHAPTER II 


A SUBJECT FOE GOSSIP 

“ I WISH ter goodness I could settle this 
’ere question that’s makin’ me think on’t 
from mornin’ till night,” said Aunt Pru- 
dence Weston ; “ land knows there’s ’nough 
ter think of an’ ter do right here ’thout 
frettin’ ’baout that ’ere little farm er 
mine.” 

“ I thought the man yer had ter run it 
was doin’ fust-rate,” remarked Philury, the 
buxom lass who served as maid-of-all-work 
at the Weston farm. 

“The man’s doin’ well ’nough, but his 
wife ain’t wuth er row er pins, an’ naow 
she’s up an’ writ that she’s goin’ ter visit 
some relatives er hern in Montryal, er some 
other place nigh there. She says she won’t 
go till I’ve faound someone else ter come an’ 
oversee the place, but haow’m I ter find 
26 


A SUBJECT FOR GOSSIP 


27 


someone fer the sitiwation, whilst I’m here, 
an’ the farm there? She says she’ll stay till 
I’m good an’ ready ter send someone ter 
take the place. I’ve ’most er mind ter take 
my time ’baout it.” 

Squire Weston, who had just entered the 
kitchen, laughed heartily at his sister’s 
speech. 

‘‘ That’s right. Prudence, that’s right,” he 
said, “don’t never pay ter be in too great 
er hurry.” 

Aunt Prudence Weston was a good 
woman, a valued member of her brother’s 
family, a blunt, yet kind friend, and above 
all things a woman who could keep her own 
counsel. Judge then of her disgust when 
having told no one outside the Weston 
household of the problem which vexed 
her, she was soon made aware that the 
greater part of the village people knew all 
about it. 

Early one morning Josiah Boyden, ex- 
selectman, and one of the solid townsmen, 
stopped at the door to advise Aunt Pru- 


28 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


dence. She was placing a row of shining 
milk-pans in the sun, when Josiah drove up 
to the door. 

‘‘ Haow be ye, Miss Prudence? ” he asked. 

“ Quite well, thank ye,” Aunt Prudence 
responded, adding in an undertone, “ I do’- 
no’ why ye want ter know.” 

“ Thought I’d call as I was goin’ by. I 
beared ye was some put aout ’baout yer 
farm hands, ’n’ I thought I’d best advise ye, 
bein’s I’ve alius had the handlin’ er con- 
siderable reel ’state. Ye’d better git some 
reel cap’ble woman ter go right ter work on 
the place ter oncet. Ye couldn’t tell what 
that man would do ’thout er good, smart 
woman ter run him.” 

“Is that why ye keep Statiry Hopkins 
over ter your haouse? ” asked Aunt Pru- 
dence, her black eyes snapping in a manner 
that plainly showed her annoyance at his 
presumption. “They do say that she does 
just everlastin’ly make ye stand ’raound, 
and mebbe ye need it.” 

Josiah winced. He was stingy, and Sta- 


A SUBJECT FOB GOSSIP 


29 


tiry was willing to work for less money than 
any other woman whom he had ever em- 
ployed; therefore he kept her and endured 
her impudence. 

“No ’fense, Miss Prudence,” he ventured; 
“ I didn’t know but ye’d value er little ad- 
vice.” 

“ I do, fer what it’s wut'h,” Aunt Pru- 
dence replied, and as there seemed to be 
nothing further to say, Josiah Boyden gath- 
ered up the reins and drove down the road. 
On the way to the Centre he saw' Mrs. Hodg- 
kins trotting along at a rapid pace. He 
knew, as did everyone for miles around, that 
no such tireless newsgatherer ever existed 
as Mrs. Hodgkins. He was angry that Aunt 
Prudence had not promptly accepted his 
advice. He considered himself to be by far 
the most prominent and influential man in 
the town, and it was past his comprehension 
that anyone could refuse his counsel if he 
condescended to give it. He had wished that 
in some way he could further annoy Aunt 
Prudence, thus to punish her for ignoring 


30 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


his valuable advice. Here was his oppor- 
tunity, and he grasped it. 

“ Mis’ Hodgkins ! ” he shouted, at the 
same time giving such a vigorous tug at the 
reins that the startled equine reared, and 
seemed about to bolt, then, thinking better 
of it, came down to earth again, and as- 
sumed her usual sleepy pose. 

« Fer goodness’ sake, Josiah ! What be 
ye tryin’ ter do with that boss? Was ye 
hollerin’ ter me fer help, because I don’t no- 
ways think that critter’d ever think er run- 
nin’ away, ’tho’ I will say she looked kind er 
fearsome with her mouth wide open when ye 
yanked the reins. Actooally, I jumped one 
side for fear she’d shet them teeth on me. 
Ye’d oughtn’t ter try ter make her do 
monkey tricks, an’ you er dignified cit’zen, 
so ter speak.” 

“ Stop, will ye? ” shouted Josiah. “ Ye 
almost made me fergit what I was goin’ ter 
say.” 

Mrs. Hodgkins’s speech had exasperated 
him. He would have denied her the pleas- 


A SUBJECT FOB GOSSIP 


31 


ure of hearing the bit of news which he had 
to tell, but he was yet more provoked with 
Aunt Prudence and also determined to get 
even; so, apparently ignoring what Mrs. 
Hodgkins had said, he leaned from the 
wagon to say : 

“ Ef ye’ve any cur’os’ty, ye’d better go up 
ter Squire Weston’s an’ advise Aunt Pru- 
dence ter git someone ter run her farm. 
Some good, smart woman, fer they do say 
that the man she’s got is doin’ well ’nough 
with the craps, but the farmhouse is jest 
bein’ sp’iled by lack er proper scrubbin’ an’ 
sich. I’d go up there ’f I was you.” 

Mrs. Hodgkins needed no urging. She 
hardly answered Josiah, so eager was she 
to lose no time in learning all the par- 
ticulars regarding the question which vexed 
Aunt Prudence. As she hurried along, she 
pondered as to the best manner of question- 
ing : if it would be wise to come directly to 
the point, or if a roundabout method would 
elicit a more satisfactory answer. She de- 
cided upon the latter course. 


32 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


Aunt Prudence had been known to flatly 
refuse to answer the questioning of inquisi- 
tive neighbors. Mrs. Hodgkins determined 
to use every artifice to win from her a full 
and complete explanation of the difficulty 
which confronted her. As she approached 
the house, she saw that the door was wide 
open, and she paused before entering to lis- 
ten and learn if anything of interest was 
being discussed. 

She could hear a quick footstep, and the 
rustle of a starched dress. That must be 
Aunt Prudence Weston, and the rattling of 
pans told that Philury was at work in the 
pantry. 

“ They ain’t speakin’ a word,” whispered 
Mrs. Hodgkins ; “ I wonder ef they’ve had 
er spat? I guess I’ll go right in ; p’raps it’ll 
be interestin’.” 

Without pausing to knock, she entered, 
and was somewhat disappointed when Aunt 
Prudence turned a smiling face to greet 
her. 

“ Haow d’ye do. Mis’ Hodgkins? Come 


A SUBJECT FOR GOSSIP 


33 


’n’ take er cheer by the winder. Ye look 
warm; did ye hurry?” 

Mrs. Hodgkins’s cheek flushed to a rud- 
dier tint. The kindly greeting made her 
hope that none of the household had seen 
her as she had stood listening at the 
door. 

“ I did come up the hill pooty quick fer 
me,” she replied, “ but I’ll ketch my breath 
in a minute.” 

Aunt Prudence offered her a fan and sat 
peering through her spectacles as if wait- 
ing to learn the purport of her call. 

Mrs. Hodgkins fldgeted upon her chair. 
She wished that Aunt Prudence’s eyes were 
not quite so penetrating. 

“ Ye don’t set comf’table,” said Aunt 
Prudence, “ that ’ere cheer leans back some. 
Lemme put this here behind ye ter brace ye 
up,” and without waiting for her caller to 
accept it, she vigorously pushed a plump 
cushion between the chairback and Mrs. 
Hodgkins’s shoulders; then as if having 
done the right thing at the right time, she 


34 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


leaned back in her own chair and again 
scrutinized her caller. She did not ask why 
she had called, but her eyes were as ques- 
tioning as interrogation points. Mrs. Hodg- 
kins was wild to commence her inquiries, 
but at loss to know how to begin. She had 
expected to find Aunt Prudence bustling 
about the kitchen, busy with household 
tasks which could not well be set aside. She 
had intended to ask a few preliminary ques- 
tions, and thus cautiously approach the sub- 
ject which piqued her curiosity. She was 
wondering how to broach the subject when 
Aunt Prudence, well knowing that some in- 
teresting errand had hurried Mrs. Hodgkins 
up the hill, leaned forward and abruptly 
asked : 

“ Did ye come fer anything special? ” 

“ Wal, yes, that is — wal, naow. I’ll tell ye ; 
I beared ye was some riled ’baout yer farm, 
an’ I thought p’raps er leetle friendly ad- 
vice ” 

“ That’ll do,” said Aunt Prudence, ‘‘ ye 
needn’t bother ter ’dvise me; I’ve had con- 


A SUBJECT FOR GOSSIP 


35 


sid’able offered me so fur, an’ I guess I kin 
git ’long ’thout any more.” 

Mrs. Hodgkins was disappointed. She 
had hoped to hear all the details of the di- 
lemma, how much Aunt Prudence was will- 
ing to pay for help, and what she would 
probably have to pay ; if she had yet chosen 
a woman for the place, and any other little 
points which might be gleaned by careful 
questioning. As it was, she had had her 
long tramp up the hill for nothing. She 
arose to go; she did not remember of ever 
having felt so completely abashed. A giggle 
from the pantry added to her discomfort; 
she could accuse no one, because she could 
not say who had laughed, but she was quite 
sure that it was Philury, the irrepressible. 

As she hurried down the path and along 
the road, she could not have said with whom 
she felt most displeased: Josiah Boyden, 
who had sent her upon a useless errand, or 
Aunt Prudence, who had not appreciated 
her interest. 

“ Mistaken it for common cur’os’ty,” she 


36 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


muttered as she turned into the lane. She 
did not realize that the lane led her past the 
land which lay behind Josiah Boyden’s 
farm, nor did she see the figure which, lean- 
ing upon the fence, was intently watching 
her as she trudged along. 

“ Been up ter the Squire’s? ” he asked in 
a peculiarly hectoring tone. 

‘‘ Wal, good land, Josiah! Hev I got ter 
meet ye all parts er the day? ” exclaimed the 
exasperated woman, stopping squarely be- 
fore him in the middle of the lane. 

“ Ef ye keep on circ’latin’ raound like ye 
hev so fur, ye’ll likely meet some er the crit- 
ters ye seen when ye fust started aout,” Jo- 
siah replied. 

“ I wouldn’t ’a’ called ye a critter, though 
I think the name fits,” snapped Mrs. Hodg- 
kins, as she turned down the lane. 

“ Haow much did ye find aout up ter the 
Squire’s? ” called Josiah, with a chuckle. 

“ I’ll leave ye ter guess,” Mrs. Hodgkins 
replied, never turning her head to look at 
him. She would not tell him that she had 


A SUBJECT FOE GOSSIP 


37 


learned nothing, and Josiah Boyden wished 
that he had refrained from taunting her ; he 
believed that she had gained some points of 
information, and because she was angry 
with him, withheld them. 

“ ’Tarnal hard to know haow to work er 
woman. I give her the hint ter go up there, 
an’ naow her mouth, that’s alius wide open, 
is shet tighter’n er clamshell,” he muttered, 
while Mrs. Hodgkins, resorting to her habit- 
ual custom of talking to herself, remarked : 

“ When he finds aout that I didn’t git er 
word ter pay me fer stalkin’ up that hill, I 
hope he’ll enjoy it.” 

‘‘ Been up ter Squire Weston’s? ” 

Mrs. Hodgkins paused and stared about 
her to learn whence came the question. 

“ Oh, there ye be ! ” she exclaimed, as a 
smiling face peeped between the bushes, 
“ seems ’s if this ’ere little lane was plumb 
full er pussons. Where d’ ye spring from, 
Almiry? ” 

“ Been aout ter do er few arrants, an’ 
stopped ter talk with Statiry Hopkins, an’ 


38 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


she said Josiah said ye’d been up ter Squire 
Weston’s.” 

“ Wal, I hev, an’ brung away as much as 
I took there, which was nothin’ ’t all. I tell 
ye, Almiry, as sure’s you’re my niece, it’s 
consid’able discouragin’ ter run half over 
the taown fer er stray piece er news an’ not 
get so much as ye could lay er finger 
on.” 

Almira Meeks was as eager for news as 
her aunt, but the expression of disgust sat 
so comically upon Mrs. Hodgkins’s usually 
jolly face that it was a task for Almira to 
refrain from laughing. 

Mrs. Hodgkins continued to discourse 
upon the scarcity of news and the stinginess 
which caused those who had a bit to with- 
hold it. 

“ I mus’ say, I don’t think much er people 
that don’t never hev no news from one year’s 
end ter ’nother, but I wouldn’t keer ter 
mention what I think er folks as has news 
an’ won’t tell it. Why, Almiry, ye ain’t 
spoke sence ye started ter walk daown this 


A SUBJECT FOR GOSSIP 


39 


’ere lane with me. Ain’t ye got er word ter 
say? ” 

She turned and peered into the face of 
the younger woman ; then she came to a full 
stop. 

“ Fer goodness’ sakes, Almiry, ye ain’t 
laughin’, be ye? ” 

Almira assured her that she had no idea 
of laughing. Her eyes were twinkling 
and Mrs. Hodgkins believed that she was 
amused, but as she had insisted that she was 
not laughing, there seemed to be nothing 
to do but to accept her statement. 

Mrs. Hodgkins was annoyed; Aunt Pru- 
dence was exasperated. A few moments 
after Mrs. Hodgkins had left, Mrs. Buffum 
arrived in a state of great excitement. She 
puffed up the path and in at the door like 
an engine running at high speed. 

“ Here I be, an’ I’ve come ter talk ter ye, 
but I’m clean tuckered aout, an’ I’ll hev ter 
wait till I’ve ketched my wind. I declare, it 
seems ’s if ye lived on the top end er crea- 
tion when I stand at the foot er the hill an’ 


40 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


think the hull stretch has got to be dumb 
afore I kin git within hailin’ distance of ye ; 
but there, likely ’nough ye wonder haow 
I kin like ter live daown in the holler, an’ I 
don’t. What with tryin’ ter fight ants by 
daytime, an’ skeeters at night; what with 
tryin’ ter keep Tommy an’ Johnny an’ Sophy 
from gittin’ draownded in the millpond, an’ 
at the same time keepin’ an eye on Hitty an’ 
Ann, I’m well nigh bein’ s’ full er tasks as 
I ought ter be. The measles has broke aout 
in the haouse next ter us, an’ ’though there’s 
a mile an’ a half between us, I can’t help 
feelin’ some narvous. Ole Mrs. What-yer- 
call-her, I never kin remember names, keeps 
er trottin’ over ter aour haouse ter borry er 
drawin’ er tea, or er half er cup er m’lasses, 
an’ every time I tell her she’ll bring them 
ere measles in her clothes, but she don’t pay 
no ’tention ter what I say, an’ keeps on corn- 
in’ just the same. Only yest’day I told her 
to keep away for a while, an’ I vaow, ’fore I 
was up this mornin’ she come paoundin’ on 
my back door. I poked my head aout the 


A SUBJECT FOE GOSSIP 


41 


winder an’ says I : ‘ Good land, is that yon 
ag’in?’ I said it reel tart like, but she didn’t 
mind. ‘ Do I look much like anybody else? ’ 
says she. I was mad, but what could I do? 
Says I, ‘ What do ye want? ’ ‘Not much 
this time,’ says she, ‘ ’though I’ll call later 
in the day ef I want anything else. Jest 
naow I’ll be pleased ef ye’ll give me a 
quarter of er cup er vin’gar, an’ a quarter 
of er cup er m’lasses, an’ I jist lieve have ’em 
in the same cup bein’s I’m goin’ ter use ’em 
together.’ Wal, I got a few clothes on an’ 
went daown stairs ; I got the vin’gar an’ the 
m’lasses poured inter the cup when she 
’baout took my breath away by sayin’ that 
while I was ’baout it, I might make it er 
half er cup of each. She said she’d resk 
walking a mile an’ er half without spillin’ 
it. Did you ever see the beat er that? But 
haow I do run on; I almost forgot what I 
come fur. I thought, busy as I was, I’d 
drap ev’rything an’ run up the hill ter tell 
ye that ’f I was you, I wouldn’t wait er 
minute, er sleep er wink till I’d got that ’ere 


42 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


farm er yourn took keer of by er smart 
woman. Don’t ye think ye’re er leetle too 
easy ’baout it, er settin’ here whilst the 
farm’s there? ” 

“ Wal, I don’t see my way clear ter bring 
the farm here,” Aunt Prudence replied. 

Mrs. Buffum, slow of comprehension, 
stood in amazement for a moment ; then she 
slowly said: 

“ Ye wouldn’t likely try ter bring it here, 
fer it couldn’t be did.” She evidently be- 
lieved that she had made a brilliant speech. 

“ Advice,” said Aunt Prudence, “ is er 
reel handy thing fer them as don’t know 
their own minds. Fer my part, I kin git 
’long without it ; ” and it dawned upon Mrs. 
Buffum that further offers of counsel would 
be superfluous. 

“ I needn’t er drapped my work ef I’d 
er known ye didn’t need no advice,” she 
said ; “ forceful as ye be, I didn’t know but 
a word er so might help ye.” 

“ I thank ye fer meanin’ well,” Aunt Pru- 
dence replied, “ but the hull taown a-tryin’ 


A SUBJECT FOE GOSSIP 


43 


ter tell me what ter do is makin’ me er 
leetle tired.” 

When Mrs. Buffum had trudged away 
Philury could be silent no longer. 

“ I declare, I b’lieve I’ll hev ter contrive 
ter help ye,” she said, “ by axin’ ev’ry pus- 
son what comes ter the door ef they’re ped- 
dlin’ advice; ef they be. I’ll tell ’em ter try 
the next haouse.” 


CHAPTER III 


HOUSE-WARMING 

Clement Carlton and his lovely wife had 
been popular in the early days of their mar- 
ried life, when their boundless love for each 
other was their only valuable possession. 
To be sure, they had considered that price- 
less, hut now, with their love made stronger 
by the years of companionship and accumu- 
lated wealth which made it possible for them 
to gratify every whim, and to dispense hos- 
pitality, they were indeed a couple to be 
envied. 

So thought Clement and Miranda, and 
so thought their friends as they hastened 
toward the new home, to the long antici- 
pated house-warming. 

Along the roads, vehicles of every descrip- 
tion could be seen; some filled with young 
people who laughed and talked of the even- 
44 


E0U8E-W ARMING 


45 


ing’s gayety of which they would form a 
part, others with older people who told tales 
of the early days of the village, commencing 
their reminiscences with, “ Why, I remem- 
ber when and yet other teams whose 

occupants gossiped of the vast sums which 
Clement Carlton was expending, and mildly 
wondering if he was “ cal-latin’ how fast 
he’s a-spendin’ of it.” 

The house was originally a farmhouse, 
but it had been modernized; additions hav- 
ing been made which gave beauty here, and 
added comfort there, until it looked like 
quite another place, and seemed a palace to 
the village people. 

The guests had been bidden to arrive at 
eight, and as no one had the least idea of 
being late, the rooms when the hands of the 
clock pointed to a quarter past the hour 
were as full as comfort would permit, and 
many walked about the grounds and upon 
the spacious piazza. 

It was a delightfully informal gathering. 
There was no line of finely dressed ladies 


46 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


assisting Mrs. Carlton to receive; instead, 
the hostess and her husband moved about 
among their friends, saying a kindly word 
of greeting to one, or chatting gayly with 
another ; thus all felt warmly welcome, and 
congratulations were freely offered. 

The assembly was evidently wearing its 
very best, and some there were who would 
have felt far more comfortable in their 
everyday clothing. 

“ I hate this ’ere stiff collar, but Mis’ 
Small would make me wear it,” confessed 
Mr. Small, to which his friend replied : 

“ I know just haow you feel, fur I got inter 
this ’ere white weskit, an’ my wife she but- 
toned of it up. I told her ’twas too tight, 
but she wouldn’t stop till the last ’tarnal 
button was buttoned. Land! But I ain’t 
drawed a hull breath sence. What makes 
women folks so sot on havin’ us stylish that 
they forgit we’ve got feelin’s? ” 

Mr. Small ignored the question. Perhaps 
he thought it difficult to answer, and after a 
pause remarked : 


HOUSE-WARMING 


47 


“ Goin’ to be a monstrous big spread in 
the dinin’-room, they tell me.” 

“ Much good I’ll git out’n it,” wailed he 
of the tight vest. I couldn’t swaller a bite 
er sup onless my wife’d lemme undo this 
weskit, an’ she won’t.” 

Of all her guests, Mrs. Carlton was sure 
that Eandy, her namesake, was the fairest, 
and truly Kandy was good to look upon. 
Her gray eyes were so merry, her cheeks so 
softly pink, and the curling ends of her 
hair so bright that those who looked at her 
turned as she passed, to look again, and 
Jotham, more keenly appreciative than his 
neighbors, saw all her charms, and mar- 
veled at her beauty. 

Sweet and lovely she had ever been, yet 
to-night it seemed to him that she was fairer 
than she had ever been before. He watched 
her as she greeted her friends, and felt that 
all which he could ever win would be but a 
trifling gift to one day offer to this girl who 
had been his little playmate, his schoolmate, 
and his friend. 


48 


BANDTS LOYALTY 


How Jotham sticks ter Eandy Weston 
like a burr,” remarked Jemima Babson, to 
which her sister Belinda, with her custom- 
ary sweetness, responded : 

“ ’Tain’t news yer tellin’, Jemimy.” 

“IVe ’baout decided that Jotham Potts is 
gittin’ ter be er han’some young chap,” said 
Joel Simpkins. Joel considered his opinion 
priceless. 

“ I ain’t been Silas Barnes’s head clerk 
these nine years fer nothin’,” he continued, 
an’ I’ve learned ter keep my ears open 
when news is goin’ raound, an’ I’ve beared, 
’tho’ of course I do’no’s it’s so, that he’s got 
a uncle what’s some likely ter leave him er 
fort’n, an’ naow I’m wild ter know ef it’s so.” 

“Wal, Joel, why don’t you ax him?” 
queried his friend. 

“ Oh, I ain’t goin’ ter hev Jotham think 
I’m cur’us,” Joel replied. “ Mebbe it’s only 
one er them yarns what’s forever bein’ cir- 
c’lated raound taown, but all the same I’d 
like ter know.” 

“ What with him bein’ eddicated an’ the 


H0U8E-WAEMIN0 


49 


chance er gettin’ er fort’n’ ye mightn’t be 
able ter speak ter him, that is, not real nigh.” 

Naow that shows ye’re a newcomer, an’ 
don’t know Jotham Potts. I’ll tell ye, ef 
Jotham gits the hull creation he’ll be the 
same Jotham we’ve knowed all these years. 
He’s the young feller ye can trust, an’ he’s 
er friend worth havin’.” 

“ Kind er ’nthusiastic, ain’t ye? ” ques- 
tioned the doubtful one, with an air, how- 
ever, of being willing to be convinced. 

“ No, I ain’t; that is, not foolishly so. Him 
an’ me’s been ’quainted sence he was er 
little feller an’ I was er fair-sized boy, an’ 
I say all I said is just so, an’ Randy’s as 
fine er gal as he is a likely young man.” 

“ Wal, bein’ a newcomer in the village, I 
don’t ’spose my ’pinion’s val’able, but I will 
say I’m some took with that pooty gal’s 
’pearance. What d’ ye call her — Randy, was 
it? ” 

“ I call her Randy ’cause ev’ry one does ; 
her name’s Mirandy, M-i-r-a-n-d-a ; named 
fer Mis’ Carlton, what’s her aunt.” 


50 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


“Land o’ liberty! Who’s that ’ere?” 

“ Who? Where? ” asked Joel, staring 
about to see the cause of such great surprise. 

“ That woman there, with that flowered 
gaown onto her.” 

Joel looked; but one word escaped his 
lips. 

“ Jimminy ! ” he gasped. 

“Wal, that ain’t her name,” was the dis- 
gusted response. 

“ Her name’s Mis’ Buffum, but that ’ere 
gaown so took me off’n my feet that I ’most 
forgot she had er name. Ain’t she gotten 
up, tho’? ” 

“ I never see er woman what felt so un- 
common pleased with her clothes, an’ her 
own self, tho’ she’s what ye call mejum 
plain.” 

« ’Twouldn’t do ter tell her that,” chuckled 
Joel, to which his companion responded: 

“ I ain’t er goin’ ter.” 

It was quite true that Mrs. Buffum was 
proud of what she considered the extreme 
elegance of her costume. She had arranged 



“Land o’ liberty! Who’s that ’ere?” — Page 50 




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HOUSE-WARMING 


51 


her hair with a view to its becomingness, 
had donned the flowered silk, clasped the 
bead necklace around her throat, and the 
reflection in the glass had made her eyes 
sparkle. 

The Buffum children, large and small, 
had been dazzled by their mother’s unusu- 
ally showy apparel. The eldest girl thought 
it very tiresome to be forced to stay at home 
to maintain discipline, while the younger 
children expressed their displeasure in 
terms which, if unheeded, could not be mis- 
understood. 

“ Sophy, d’ye keep good order whilst I’m 
at the haouse-warmin’, an’ I’ll let ye go with 
me when I call on the parson’s wife next 
week.” 

“ Johnny, an’ Tommy, an’ Hitty, an’ Ann ! 
Behave like good children, an’ ye shall have 
m’lasses on both sides of yer bread ter-mor- 
rer noon.” 

The promised share in the call which her 
mother was to make seemed an especial 
honor to Sophy ; surely she was now placed 


52 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


above the level of her small brothers and 
sisters, while the unlimited luxury promised 
the smaller children caused them to feel as 
if they had been suddenly granted seats at 
the table of affluence. 

“ Molasses on both sides of our bread,” 
whispered Hitty. “ I don’t b’lieve Mis’ Carl- 
ton will give the folks much nicer’n 
that ! ” 

‘‘ Pshaw ! ” Johnny replied. Don’t ye 
know they’ll git rolls an’ ham, an’ cake an’ 
pie, an’ tarts, same’s we hed at the yaller 
tea? That time I eat all I could, an’ stuffed 
some more in my blaouse an’ pants pockets. 
When I got home I caounted up, an’ besides 
what I eat I had ten tarts, four pieces er 
cake an’ er piece er pie. The pie got 
squashed, but them other things was all 
right.” 

“ I don’t care, ’twas just horrid ter take 
them things,” said Hitty. 

“Was it? Wal, I noticed ye eat what I 
gave yer, and ye wanted some er Tommy’s 
share, but ye didn’t git it.” 


HOUSE-WAEMING 


53 


Hitty insisted that she was quite con- 
tented with the treat which Mrs. Buffum 
had promised. It was not that she was so 
much sweeter than her sturdy brother 
Johnny, but Johnny had said that nothing 
could equal the spread that Mrs. Carlton 
would serve, so for the extreme pleasure of 
being on the opposite side, Hitty at once 
declared a yearning for molasses. 

There were others who watched Mrs. Buf- 
fum as she swept through the rooms, and 
their comments were as varied as they were 
amusing. 

“ Mis’ BufPum’s er reel good woman, an’ 
I like her, but I tell ye, she thinks herself 
some punkins, don’t she?” remarked a 
motherly-looking woman, to which her 
friend replied : 

“ Wal, yes, I guess she does. She’s actin’ 
kind er queer, seems ter me. D’ye notice 
she holds her head turrible high, an’ ye’d 
think her arms were glued daown ; she don’t 
lift ’em even ter use that ’ere fan she’s car- 
ryin’.” 


54 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


“Mebbe she isn’t warm ’nough ter need 
fannin’.” 

‘‘ Wal, I declare ! That was er bright 
thing ter say, and her face the color of er 
biled lobster! She’s meltin like er taller 
candle, but for some reason she won’t fan 
herself ; she’s cornin’ this way, an’ I’m goin’ 
to ax her why.” 

“My gracious! That’d take courage,” 
was the startled reply. 

“ Did anybody ever say I was timid? ” 
came the sharp retort. There was no time 
to answer, for at that moment Mrs. Buf- 
fum, smiling and radiant, swept toward 
them. 

“ Good ev’n’,” she said ; “ ain’t it er fine 
night fer Mis’ Carlton?” 

“ Fine night fer everybody,” said the 
stout matron ; “ fine night, but some hot. 
Land sakes. Mis’ Buffum, why don’t 
ye wield yer fan? Ye look uncommon 
warm.” 

Mrs. Buffum’s round face assumed a rud- 
dier hue. 


HOUSE-W ARMING 


55 


“ I don’t never think fannin’ does much 
good when ye’re warm ’nough ’thout any 
extry exertion,” she said. 

“ Still, as ye’ve brung that ’ere fan ye 
might as well use it.” 

“ When I’m ter hum I alius hev er broom, 
er dus’ pan, er rollin’ pin in my hand; I’d 
feel turrible queer without somethin’ ter 
hold, so I brung this fan along.” 

She turned from them abruptly and was 
9.t once confronted by Mrs. Hodgkins. She 
had thus far answered their questions glibly, 
and had left them that they might not con- 
tinue to quiz. Here, at the first turn, was 
the woman who knew the plan by which her 
gown had been made large enough to cover 
her, and could, if she chose, tell everyone 
why, on a hot evening, her fan was not vigor- 
ously wielded. 

Mrs. Hodgkins’s round face wore a jovial 
expression. She was glad to be one of the 
gay company, but she was wildly glad to see 
Mrs. Buffum. 

“ Hev ye kept yer elbows daown jest as 


56 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


they be naow every minute sence ye arriv? ” 
she asked, in a loud whisper. 

“ Sh h ! Certain I hev,” replied Mrs. 

Buffum. “ Didn’t I say I should? ” 

“ Good gracious, yes ; but I didn’t b’lieve 
ye could.” Then a bright thought occurred 
to Mrs. Hodgkins. 

“ Has anybody offered ye er cup er tea? ” 
she asked. 

“ Tea ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Buffum, a note 
of triumph in her voice. “ Tea ! As many 
as er dozen cups er tea has been offered me, 
an’ I ain’t took one on ’em. What d’ye think 
er that? ” 

Mrs. Hodgkins’s face was a study, for 
mingled with its evident surprise and ad- 
miration was a fixed determination. A res- 
olute will had Mrs. Hodgkins, and while she 
listened to all that her friend had to say, she 
was revolving in her mind several plans 
which might, if carried out, induce Mrs. 
Buffum to lift her plump arms and show 
those inserted pieces of light-brown silk. 

She was usually kind-hearted, but her 


E0V8E-W ARMING 


57 


jealousy had been aroused. Mrs. Buffum’s 
showy dress was attracting a deal of atten- 
tion, and the good woman was assuming a 
manner which she considered regal. They 
were of equal height, yet so high did Mrs. 
Buffum carry her head, at such an angle did 
she elevate her pudgy nose, that Mrs. Hodg- 
kins felt herself looked down upon, and she 
was indignant. 

« ’F my gaown is a old one, it ain’t pieced 
aout ter make it big ’nough ter git inter,” 
she whispered, as Mrs. Buffum turned from 
her to find more congenial friends. 

She saw Joel Simpkins and his wife, and 
hastened to join them. She had always 
liked Mrs. Simpkins from the time when, as 
Janie Clifton, she had been the village mil- 
liner and dressmaker, to the present day, 
when, as the wife of Joel and sister-in-law 
to Timotheus, she occupied a prominent 
place in the parish. 

A bright smile curved the little dress- 
maker’s lips as she offered her hand to her 
friend. 


58 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


“ Glad to see you, Mis’ Buffum,” she said ; 
an’ that’s er han’some gaown ye’re wearin’ ; 
becomes yer, too.” 

“ Thank yer ; I’m ’mazin’ glad ye like it,” 
was the grateful reply. 

It was truly delightful to meet one who 
was not bent upon questioning, she thought, 
but Janie Simpkins’s next remark filled Mrs. 
Buffum with wrath. 

“ My ’pinion as er dressmaker is wuth 
somethin’, an’ I sh’d say that was er pretty 
good fittin’ gaown. I alius say that er waist 
orter fit fine on the side pieces ter make er 
correct fit. Just lift yer arms, Mrs. Buffum, 
so’s I can tell ef it fits on the sides as good 
as it does front an’ back.” 

In answer, Mrs. Buffum held her plump 
arms closer, while she spoke never a word, 
for the very good reason that she could not 
think what to say. 

“ I guess ye didn’t hear what I said. Mis’ 
Buffum,” Mrs. Simpkins said, while she 
stared in surprise at the irate woman, who 
returned her gaze with eyes which plainly 
bespoke displeasure. 


HOUSE-WARMING 


59 


“ I heard what ye said, but I don’t hev ter 
do as ye axed me ter, ef I don’t see fit,” Mrs. 
Buffum said ; “ an’ as my arms is all right 
where they be, there’s no call fer me ter 
lift ’em.” 

“ Wal, I snum ! ” ejaculated Mrs. Simp- 
kins, while Mrs. Buffum, as she sailed to- 
ward another group of friends, wondered if 
the admiration which her gown had won 
was sufficient compensation for the strenu- 
ous effort required to keep her arms in their 
enforced position, and to successfully parry 
the questioning of inquisitive friends. 

Beside Aunt Miranda stood Randy, for 
the moment in earnest conversation, and 
many were the admiring glances which 
rested upon the young girl in her fresh 
beauty, and upon Miranda Carlton in her 
riper loveliness. Which was the more charm- 
ing it were difficult to say, and Sandy Mc- 
Leod having asked his good wife the ques- 
tion, received an answer which bespoke the 
opinion of all who looked upon them. 

“ Weel, Sandy,” Margaret had replied, 
they’re rare blossoms, the twa, an’ it’s just 


60 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


fer us tae decide wliicli is the finer : a bud er 
a bloom. By lookin’ at sweet Miranda Carl- 
ton we see wba’ dear Bandy’ll be like.” 

“ Eight, Margaret, right,” Sandy replied, 
“ an’ could we wish a finer thing than that 
Bandy’s braw beauty might ripen tae the 
richness o’ the charm o’ Clement Carlton’s 
young wife? ” 

And what a delightful evening it was for 
Bandy! With everyone so truly glad to 
meet her, her own greetings were offered 
with even more than her habitual cheeri- 
ness, and Jotham, her faithful cavalier, 
watched her with sparkling eyes, believing 
that there had never been a girl so fair. 

There was one who watched Bandy with 
as true admiration as anyone there, but her 
eyes w’ere wistful, and she stood apart, tak- 
ing no part in the merriment, seeming un- 
mindful of aught save Bandy. It was 
Eunice Earnshaw, and her effort to answer 
cheerfully when some friend addressed her 
showed plainly that something marred, for 
her, the evening’s pleasure. 


HOUSE-WARMING 


61 


“ If Arthur were only here,” she whis- 
pered, for in her love for her brother she 
believed that no one, not even Eandy, could 
resist his charm, if only he were present to 
offer her the attention which now Jotham 
lavished upon her with undisputed sway. 
Arthur Earnshaw’s delight in Eandy’s com- 
pany had been very evident, and he had had 
bright dreams of superseding Jotham, be- 
lieving that only persistent effort to gain 
her approval were necessary to win the 
coveted prize. 

Now absent from the village upon busi- 
ness which could not be neglected, he chafed 
that Jotham should hold the field with no 
one to interfere. In truth, both Eunice and 
Arthur were taking the matter too seriously. 
Eandy was not thinking of either Jotham or 
Arthur in any light other than as two kind 
and charming friends. She was glad that 
Jotham was with her, and sorry that Arthur 
was away, and looking at it thus lightly she 
did not guess the reason for Eunice’s pensive 
eyes, or her apparent lack of interest in the 


62 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


games which others were enjoying, and of 
which she had always been so fond. 

“Just see how grieved Eunice is to-night; 
she cares for nothing which Arthur cannot 
enjoy with her,” Randy said. 

Jotham looked at the sweet face in which 
solicitude for Eunice was so evident. He 
knew, as did many another, that while 
Eunice missed her brother’s companionship, 
anxiety for his welfare as Randy’s friend 
was the feeling now uppermost in her heart. 
He made no comment as to Eunice’s manner, 
for just at that moment Randy’s little sis- 
ter Prue ran toward them and claimed their 
immediate attention. 

She was greatly excited, and could not 
refrain from clapping her hands as she made 
her announcement. 

“ Oh, Jotham, Randy! ” she cried. “ What 
d’you ’spose? Aunt Miranda has got a big 
frosted cake on the center of the table with 
candy roses on top an’ all ’round it, an’ let’s 
me ’n’ you ’n’ Jotham all sit ’side of each 
other when we go out to supper.” 


H0U8E-W ARMING 


63 


‘‘ I’ll agree to sit ‘ ’side of each other,’ ” 
said Jotham, giving one of Prue’s curls a 
little tweak. 

“Now, Jotham Potts! You just needn’t 
tease, for you know what I mean. Of course 
Eandy wants to sit ’side of you, an’ Fm just 
wild to.” 

“ Now, that is what I call a frank compli- 
ment,” said Jotham, “and one which I ap- 
preciate. See here, Prue! If we find our- 
selves crowded for room at the spread, I 
promise you that you shall sit near me if I 
have to take you on my knee.” 

“ Yes, oh, yes ! ” Prue responded ; “ I 
wouldn’t even care for frosted cake if you 
weren’t there ’side o’ me.” 

“ May I always possess as loyal a friend,” 
Jotham said; and while his dark eyes were 
merry, there was a serious note in his voice. 

Randy looked again toward where Eunice 
was standing, and was about to speak to her, 
with a hope of cheering her, when two girls, 
evidently new acquaintances, joined Eunice 
and with her went out on the piazza. 


CHAPTER IV 


A LITTLE CULPRIT 

While Randy and Jotham were enjoying 
the society of their friends, while mirth and 
merry music were making the moments fly, 
while beneath the unwavering scrutiny of 
Mrs. Hodgkins’s sharp eyes Mrs. Bufifum 
gayly disported herself in her precious 
sprigged silk, while at the Carlton house all 
was light and gayety, a daring scheme was 
being concocted by which two uninvited 
guests hoped to be sharers in the festivities. 

The moon, appearing from behind a cloud, 
revealed a small figure which stood gazing 
eagerly up toward the chamber window of a 
little farmhouse. He was evidently impa- 
tient, for he shifted his weight from one foot 
to the other, and at last, after repeated 
whistling which failed to elicit a response, 
an exclamation of disgust escaped his lips. 

64 


A LITTLE CULPRIT 


65 - 


“ Gee ! Ain’t he stupid ! ” he said. He 
puckered his lips for another shrill whistle, 
making it longer and louder than before; 
but he whom he sought could not be easily 
aroused from his slumbers. 

He picked up a tiny pebble and sent it 
flying toward the window. It struck the 
glass with a sharp click, which seemed 
startling because of the stillness of the 
night. 

Disgusted because his efforts met with no 
response, the boy stooped, and grasping a 
handful of small pebbles, flung them upward 
toward the window, and a moment later a 
frowzy head looked out to see who had 
caused the disturbance. 

“ Who’s that? ” cautiously whispered he 
of the hay-colored locks. 

“ Me,” was the lucid answer, which, brief 
though it was, served its purpose, for he was 
immediately recognized. 

“Oh, Hi; what yer want?” 

“ Want yer ter come daown naow, Johnny, 
an’ I’ll tell yer somethin’ gret ! ” 


66 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


The yellow head disappeared from the 
window, and soon the creaking of a rusty 
bolt was followed by the opening of the door, 
a flood of moonlight showing that the small 
boy had made a hasty toilet, having donned 
only his cotton blouse and trousers. 

What yer want? ” he asked, his bright 
eyes showing that he was keenly inter- 
ested in any proposition which Hi might 
make. 

‘‘ Come aout an’ I’ll tell ye ; shet the 
door,” commanded Hi ; “I don’t want the 
others ter hear what we’re up to. Shet that 
door,” he repeated, ‘‘an’ we’ll stand over 
there behind them layloc bushes.” 

Johnny softly closed the door, as usual 
obeying Hi, who was ever a ruling factor, 
and when they had reached the sheltering 
lilac bushes, where prying eyes at other win- 
dows might not see them. Hi commenced to 
work the impressionable Johnny to a proper 
pitch of excitement. 

“ ’S yer ma at Mis’ Carlton’s house- 
warmin’,” he asked. 


A LITTLE CULPRIT 


67 


Johnny nodded. He considered it a fool- 
ish question, but dared not say so. Was 
there a grown person in the village who was 
not there? It was the children who had 
been deprived of a share in the lavish enter- 
tainment. Johnny felt aggrieved. Prue 
was there, and he was not; what mattered 
it that Prue was a niece of Mrs. Carlton? 
It was hut the more aggravating that he was 
not a nephew. 

“ Where’s yer pa? ” was the next question. 
“ Is he up ter Mis’ Carlton’s, too? ” 

“ He’s gone over ter North Village, an’ 
he’s cornin’ back ter-morrer.” 

“ Then he won’t ketch us talkin’ here.” 

“ No, he won’t,” Johnny said, impatiently. 
“An’ is that what yer called down ter tell 
me?” 

Hi chose to take no notice of his chum’s 
displeasure; he knew that Johnny’s stock 
of courage was small, and careful work 
would be necessary to whet his bit of 
bravery. 

“ It’s just er shame fer yer ter be made 


68 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


ter stay home an’ go ter bed, an’ all the folks 
up there er havin’ ice cream an’ all the 
other goodies. I’d think ye’d be mad ; I be,” 
said Hi, his voice expressing reproach. 

“ Ain’t I mad? But what be I goin’ ter 
do ’baout it? ” snarled Johnny. 

He had been sound asleep when Hi had 
flung the gravel at his window. What was 
the pleasure of being awakened in order to 
hear an inventory of the joys of which he 
was not partaking. Very slowly and clearly 
Hi made his next remark. 

“ They ain’t goin’ ter hev their ’fresh- 
ments till quarter ter ten,” he said. 

“ Spos’n’ they ain’t ! ” said Johnny, con- 
vinced that he would far better have stayed 
in bed than to have been made to listen to 
such pointless remarks. 

“ Spos’n’ they ain’t!” repeated Hi, in fine 
scorn ; “ wal, it’s only ’baout quarter ter nine 
naow, an’ I intend ter git there in time ter 
hev some er the treat, that is, if ye’ve got the 
spunk ter help me, but I don’t b’lieve ye 
hev.” 


A LITTLE CULPRIT 


69 


“ I’d do anything ter help yer ef I could 
git some er the treat, but I don’t see haow 
we could do it; they wouldn’t let us in,” 
said Johnny, doubting, yet hoping that Hi 
possessed a plan which might succeed. 

“ Haow ye goin’ ter do it? Haow kin I 
help ye. Hi? ” he asked, but Hi thought best 
to keep his scheme secret until he was ready 
to use it. 

“ Come ’long over with me,” he said, “ an’ 
when we git there I’ll tell yer what ter do.” 

Johnny Buffum had had many experi- 
ences wherein Hi Babson had played a con- 
spicuous part, and for a moment he hesi- 
tated. 

Hi saw that Johnny was irresolute. 

“Think o’ the Wash’n’ton pie, an’ the 
tarts, an’ things, an’ say, Johnny,” contin- 
ued the crafty Hi, “ Silas Barnes says they 
ordered five kags er ice cream ! ” 

That statement settled all scruples in 
Johnny’s mind. 

“Five kags er ice cream!” repeated 
Johnny. “ I’ll go with ye.” 


70 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


Hi hastened to lead the way, for he knew 
that the time to be sure of Johnny’s assist- 
ance was when his enthusiasm was active. 
Up the hill they trudged, and soon the bright 
lights in the windows of the Carlton house 
glimmered through the trees. Johnny won- 
dered what Hi’s scheme might be, but dared 
not ask, for Hi had said that he would not 
tell his plan until they had reached the 
house. And when at last they stood before 
the gate. Hi, for the first time, spoke. 

“ They’s more folks raound this side er 
the haouse, so we’ll just jump over the wall 
an’ go raound,” he whispered ; “ the dinin’- 
room’s on the hin’ side er the haouse, any- 
haow.” 

Johnny obediently did as Hi suggested, 
for Hi was a director who directed, and who 
expected to be obeyed. 

Hi was right regarding the guests. They 
preferred to enjoy the broad lawn with rows 
of lantern-hung trees, and thus the grounds 
at the rear of the house were deserted. As 
Hi had hoped, the coast was clear. 


A LITTLE CULPRIT 


71 


Both boys were barefoot, and softly they 
made their way around to where the bright 
light streamed from the low windows of the 
dining-room. As they stood upon tiptoe, 
lifting their chins that they might see every 
viand upon the great table, Hi’s eyes grew 
round with greedy longing, while Johnny 
gasped as he emitted a softly whispered 
« 0—0 — oh ! ” 

“ Be still, while I tell yer what ter do,” 
whispered Hi ; “ an’ ’fore ye know it, an’ 
’fore any on ’em comes aout ter the spread, 
we’ll be runnin’ daown ter the spring where, 
on top er the big rock, we’ll eat aour goodies, 
an’ jest eat, an’ eat.” 

“ M — m — m ! ” agreed Johnny ; “ but 

haow’ll we git ’em? ” 

“ Easy ’nough,” said confident Hi ; “ the 
table’s all set fer ’em, but they ain’t a-goin’ 
ter march out ter supper till quarter ter ten, 
so naow they’s nobody in the dinin’-room, 
so come ’long over ter the winder an’ I’ll 
boost ye.” 

“ What, me? ” 


n 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


Johnny fairly gasped, so great was his 
surprise, 

“ Wal, what d’ye think I bothered ter call 
fer ye fer? I could er got the goodies my- 
self, but I went an’ called fer ye so’s ye could 
hev some of it, an’ I thought ye’d be willin’ 
ter help me.” 

“ So I be,” Johnny whispered ; “ but ef ye 
boost me up, an’ I crawl in an’ get the good- 
ies an’ git aout with ’em, seems ter me I’ll 
be doin’ the hull thing myself.” 

Hi was surprised. Johnny saw through 
the little plan ! What could he now say that 
would smooth Johnny’s ruffled feathers and 
coax him into a belief that he had been 
mistaken? 

After a moment’s pause. Hi spoke, pur- 
posely ignoring Johnny’s speech. 

“ D’ye want some er the treat? Ef ye do, 
we’ll hev ter be quick, er we won’t git it. 
The reason / can’t git in the winder is be- 
cause ye’re such a little critter ye ain’t big 
’nough ter boost me.” 

That being the actual truth, Johnny ac- 


A LITTLE CULPRIT 


73 


cepted it, and Hi, realizing that his argu- 
ment had proved convincing, gave Johnny 
the “ boost ” which he had promised. So 
strenuous was his effort that Johnny 
landed in the room, rolled over, and 
bumped his head against a leg of the table. 
To say that he was surprised would not 
adequately describe his emotions, for 
amazement and wrath were struggling 
within him. 

Hi heard the thump, and peeping over 
the window-sill, saw Johnny sitting upon 
the floor, rubbing his head. 

“ Don’t stop ter rub the bump,” was Hi’s 
whispered command, “ ’less ye want ter be 
ketched ! ” Compassion formed no part of 
Hi Babson’s character, but Johnny did not 
notice the lack of sympathy. He could 
hear the lively chatter and merry laughter 
of the guests, and believing that at any 
moment they might enter the dining-room 
and discover him, he seized a huge Wash- 
ington pie and reached it out over the sill 
to the impatient Hi. 


74 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


“Git some er that frosted cake,” whis- 
pered Hi, at the same time snatching the 
pie, which he promptly slipped inside his 
blouse, and reached for the coveted cake. 
Johnny handed the cake to Hi, at the same 
time whispering; 

“ What’ll I git next? They ain’t put no 
ice cream on the table.” 

“What, no ice cream?” questioned the 
disgusted Hi. “Wal, give me anything; 
an’ hurry up! Ye’ve got ter git the things 
an’ git aout, ye know.” 

Johnny did know, and so nervous was he 
that he shivered whenever the voice of a 
chattering guest rose shrilly above the 
clamor of voices. 

“ Hurry up! ” whispered Hi. 

Ain’t I a-hurryin’?” was the exasper- 
ated reply. 

Johnny was angry that he should be do- 
ing the risky part of the act while Hi 
remained in, at least, comparative safety 
outside the window. He decided to gather 
some of the good things which he could 


A LITTLE CULPRIT 


75 


easiest reach and with them make his es- 
cape. He believed it must be nearing the 
time for the guests to enjoy the treat; that 
now every moment that he remained was 
precious. He took another pie and, follow- 
ing Hi’s example, placed it inside his 
blouse, gave yet another to Hi, reached for 
a plate of fruit cake, and was about to take 
it when a firm hand caught him by the 
collar and a familiar voice shrieked; 

‘^Johnny Buffum! Drap them cakes!” 

Drop them? He had dropped them; and 
as the relentless hand gave him yet another 
shake the pie which his blouse concealed 
rolled from its hiding-place and then un- 
der the table. 

“ That I should ketch a son er mine up 
ter such doin’ s! ” shrieked Mrs. Buffum, 
the sentiment being expressed in jerky 
fashion, her vocal efforts keeping time with 
her slipper, which came down with vigorous 
whacks upon the now penitent Johnny; pen- 
itent, because he had been caught. 

“ I didn’t mean ter ! ” he wailed. 


76 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


“ Yes yer did, er yer wouldn’t er done it ! ” 

Whack! Whack! went the stout slipper. 

‘‘ Ow ! Ow ! O — oh ! Hi made me do it ! ” 
sobbed Johnny ; “ an’ he’s outside the 
winder.” 

‘^No, he ain’t, nuther; but you’ll be out- 
side this ’ere haouse soon’s I kin leave ga 
er yer.” 

Johnny, held firmly upon his mother’s 
knee, kicked and struggled, while the slipper 
continued to descend with machine-like reg- 
ularity, and in the midst of the excitement 
the guests, upon hearing Johnny’s screams, 
poured into the dining-room and stood 
amazed at the tableau presented. 

Mrs. Buffum was too busy chastizing 
Johnny to be aware of their presence, and 
her arm, vigorously wielding the slipper, 
alternately displayed and hid the tell-tale 
patching by which her waist had been made 
large enough for her rotund figure. 

It was still twenty minutes before Mrs. 
Carlton had intended to summon her guests 
to the dining-room. She was talking ear- 


A LITTLE CULPRIT 


77 


nestly with a group of her friends, and when 
she looked toward the end of the room which 
seemed deserted she wondered where so 
many of her guests had fled. 

It happened that those who had rushed to 
the dining-room were the very ones who had 
been most inquisitive, and their comments 
were characteristic. 

“Just see her whack him! What’s he 
been doin’? ” 

“ Look at the hole he’s made in the good- 
ies, the little rat ! ” 

“ My I But she’s got muscle ! ” 

“ Jimminy ! See her give it ter him ! ” 

“ See her gaown, more like ! I’ll be baound 
she’s fergot herself, er she wouldn’t be 
showin’ off. Naow we know why she 
wouldn’t lift her arms ! ” 

This last speech, whispered though it was, 
reached Mrs. Buffum’s ears. She dropped 
Johnny, who at once jumped out of the win- 
dow, and, like an angry goddess of huge 
proportions, she faced the one who had ut- 
tered it. 


78 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


“ My gaown was put together as I see fit, 
same’s yours was, most likely,” she said, and 
with her arms once more concealing the tell- 
tale piecings, she swept from the room and 
at a lively pace sought to overtake Johnny, 
the cause of her displeasure. 

After having disclosed her makeshift she 
could not smother her chagrin and remain 
at the feast. 

Oddly enough, Mrs. Carlton did not know, 
until several days after, of the exciting scene 
which had been enacted in the dining-room 
where the feast had been spread, and so 
large was the number of guests that she did 
not realize that Mrs. Buffum was not pres- 
ent. The maid who was to act as waitress 
had noticed the spaces upon the table where 
the youthful marauders had hastily helped 
themselves, and had at once refilled the cake- 
plates. 

It was a tempting collation, and the guests 
were quick to show their appreciation of 
the good things so bountifully provided. 

And after the dainty spread had been en- 


A LITTLE CULPRIT 


79 


joyed, some charming music followed, and 
when at a late hour the guests departed, it 
was with sincerity that they told their 
charming hostess that the evening had been 
one of perfect pleasure. 


CHAPTER V 


A HASTY RESOLVE 

Although it was a week since the even- 
ing of the house-warming, it was still a 
delightful theme for couversatiou, aud in 
many a household it served as a great event 
from which to date the lesser happenings. 
Called upon to state upon what date a cer- 
tain thing occurred, the housewife reckoned 
time after this formula : 

“ Wal, I can’t tell exactly which day I 
done it, but as near as I kin remember, it 
was ’baout five days before the house- 
warmin’.” 

Mrs. Hodgkins was more positive. “ Ye 
needn’t be wond’rin’ when ’twas that I told 
ye that bit er news, fer I kin tell ye to a T. 
’Twas four days before the house-warmin’, 
an’ the way I remember is that, as I say, I 
beared it four days before, an’ I faound aout 
’tw’as true jest four days after.” 

80 


A HASTY RESOLVE 


81 


It had truly been a delightful evening, 
and Randy, on her way toward the brook, 
was thinking of the bright lights and 
brighter faces which had made the event one 
long to be remembered. She had not known 
of Johnny’s escapade, and believed that 
nothing had occurred to make a jarring note 
in the evening’s pleasure. 

She had just given a cheery greeting to 
Jabez Brimblecom, who had driven past the 
house in order to deliver a letter to Randy. 

“ I was daown at Barnes’s store jest as he 
was sortin’ of the mail, an’, says I, I’ll be 
goin’ by the Squire’s haouse, an’ I’ll take 
Randy’s letter; it’ll be er pleasure.” 

“ You are always kind,” Randy said, “ and 
though you have often brought my letters 
to me, you have never given me more pleas- 
ure than in bringing this one. Only think, 
Mr. Brimblecom, it is from Helen Dayton.” 

“ A letter from Miss Dayton ! Wal, I de- 
clare! No wonder you’re pleasqd; fer ef 
ever there was a sweet, lovely gal, ’twas her, 
an’ I ain’t the only one in taown what re- 


82 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


members her. Why, Mis’ Brimblecom was 
tellin’ only er day er two ago of the time 
when ye went daown ter Boston and stayed 
ter Miss Dayton’s haome whilst ye went to 
private school. Ye had er fine time, Randy, 
but haow we missed ye ! From fall ter spring 
was a long spell fer ye ter leave us all, an’ 
’twas hard ter git ’long without ye. Ye 
don’t s’pose she’s askin’ yer ter come agin’, 
do ye? ” he asked, with real concern. 

If one of the village gossips had thus 
questioned her, Randy would have felt an- 
noyed, but she knew that Jabez was never 
curious ; that only sincere interest prompted 
his question. 

She opened her letter, and one of the first 
lines that attracted her attention answered 
Jabez’s question. Randy laughed gayly. 

“ Yes, there is an invitation in the letter,” 
she said, at the same time looking up into 
the eager face which peered down at her 
from beneath the broad brim of his old 
straw hat. 

Will ye go, Randy? Though ye ’most 


A HASTY RESOLVE 


83 


couldn’t help it. A visit ter her would be er 
delight.” 

“ That is just what it will be. Yes, I’ll 
accept it, for she so wishes me to come, and 
I know that mother will be willing. Oh, 
who could have dreamed of such a 
pleasure? ” 

Jabez thought that he had never seen 
Eandy’s smile so radiant, or her eyes so 
dazzlingly bright, and long after he had left 
her he continued to think of the sweet face 
which he and his good wife had loved and 
admired since, as a tiny child, they had 
known her. 

Eandy watched the team as it turned the 
corner, and then sat down to read the letter. 
She had hastily scanned it, that she might 
answer Jabez’s question; she would read it 
carefully, lest one dear word might be 
missed. 

Helen Dayton was now the wife of Pro- 
fessor Harden, a valued instructor and lec- 
turer at Harvard. Eemembering what a 
delight Eandy’s first visit had been to her- 


84 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


self, and to Aunt Marcia, with whom she 
made her home, Helen had written to ask 
if she might soon have the pleasure of her 
company for a number of weeks. 

Randy read and re-read the letter in which 
Helen so lovingly urged her to accept the 
invitation. After the letter had been re- 
placed in its envelope, Randy held it tightly 
clasped, and it seemed as if Helen’s beauti- 
ful face were before her, the dark eyes 
earnestly pleading. 

“ Of course I will go,” Randy softly mur- 
mured. “ I could not think of refusing. 
Fancy missing such a pleasure as that ! ” 

With light steps she turned homeward. 
She had had but a short walk, but who could 
wait to share such a delightful letter? 

During her stay in the village Helen Day- 
ton had been a favorite with all, and in the 
Weston family she was held in loving 
regard. 

Randy’s cheeks were flushed with antici- 
pation; her eyes were bright, her red lips 
parted. She stepped up on to the doorstone 


A HASTY RESOLVE 


85 


and paused before entering ; Aunt Prudence 
was speaking. Kandy could not have told 
why she hesitated at the door. Something 
which Aunt Prudence was saying arrested 
her attention. 

I declare, Philury, ye’ll hev ter write er 
long letter; takes so many words ter make 
er person und’stand what ye want of ’em.” 

“Naow let me tell ye, I’ll write the hull 
letter fer ye, ef it’s stretched from Dan ter 
Beersheeby,” Philury replied. 

Ye’re a good girl,” Aunt Prudence re- 
plied, “ an’ I know ye’re patient, but they’s 
jest no end ter the things what ought ter be 
writ, an’ the idee er sprainin’ my wrist jest 
as I’d ’baout detarmined ter go aout there 
fer a few weeks an’ set things ter rights. I 
b’lieve I never was so put aout.” 

“ I wouldn’t fret,” Philury replied. 
“ Mebbe it’ll turn aout all right ef ye let me 
write an’ giv ’em ter und’stand that ye mean 
what ye say when ye tell ’em what ye want 
did, an’ ye kin say ye’ll be there in er few 
weeks ter see ef them things has been did.” 


86 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


“ That’s all very well,” Aunt Prudence 
replied, “ but I do’no’ when I kin leave here. 
The fust time I twisted my arm, ’twas of er 
Sat’day, an’ bein’s we was busy, I said 
nothin’ ’baout it, but kept on usin’ of it. 
Naow I’ve give it the second twist, I can’t 
use it, an’ between the pain in my wrist an’ 
the frettin’ ’baout my pesky little farm, I’m 
well-nigh wild.” 

“ I could go out on the farm for her ; I 
believe I could set things right as well as 
she could,” thought Randy; but a second 
thought quickly followed. 

“ If I go I lose my visit to Helen.” 

Again Philury spoke. 

“ Ye’ve been generous to stay here, whilst 
yer own farm needed yer ’tention,” she 
said. 

“ Hush ! Don’t you ever mention that 
idee. They needed me here, an’ I tried ter 
let hired help jest keep the little place goin’. 
What’s the use in livin’, Philury, ef ye 
ain’t a bit self-fergittin’ and gen’rous? ” 

Quickly Randy tucked the dear letter in 


A HASTY RESOLVE 


87 


the folds of her waist and entered. She felt 
that she must speak at once, or her longing 
to visit Helen would triumph over her bet- 
ter impulse. 

“I will go, Aunt Prudence,” she said, 
steadily, “ so Philury need not write the 
long letter. You must stay here and let 
Dr. Bushnell care for your wrist, while 
Philury takes care of you and the family. 
Truly, you can trust me; you don’t know 
how business-like I can be.” 

“ Send ye aout there, Eandy? Why, yer 
ma would hev er fit at the idee, an’ ye well 
know that Prue would be wild. Fancy me 
er sendin’ my brother’s darter on such a 
arrant ! ” 

You are not sending me. Aunt Pru- 
dence; I’m sending myself, and truly I be- 
lieve I shall do well.” 

It was a difficult task to speak so bravely, 
for the invitation was uppermost in her 
mind, and she laid her hand upon her breast 
where, under the folds of her dress, the let- 
ter lay. In her own room at night she would 


88 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


answer it. She would tell Helen how great 
a struggle it had been to relinquish the 
promised delight of the visit. Helen should 
not think that her invitation could be lightly 
refused. 

It was a very tender letter which she 
wrote, thanking Helen sincerely, and telling 
her how great was her disappointment, how 
truly she longed to enjoy the pleasure which 
Helen had assured her should be hers if she 
came to Boston. Prue coaxed for permis- 
sion to post it, little dreaming what Bandy 
had written, for letters were so often re- 
ceived from Helen and promptly answered 
that the arrival of a missive from Boston 
caused no surprise. 

Prue ran down the path, shouting loudly 
to her playmate to follow : 

“ Hi ! Hi Babson ! I got to go to the pos’- 
offlce; come ’long with me.” 

The small boy waited for no urging. Prue 
was a winsome little lass, for whose favor 
Johnny Buffum and Hi Babson were stren- 
uous claimants. 


A HASTY RESOLVE 


89 


While Hi hoarded his few pennies for 
the purpose of buying pickled limes and 
licorice with which to charm Prue, Johnny, 
who seldom saw a penny, risked life and 
limb to gather sweet apples and wild grapes 
for the little lady. His latest offering of 
apples of questionable quality he laid di- 
rectly at Prue’s feet, for the limb upon which 
he sat broke, and both boy and apples came 
down to earth within a few inches of where 
Prue stood. 

“Why, Johnny Buffum! ’F you’d fallen 
on to me you’d have hurt me just awful,” 
she cried. 

“ Wal, I didn’t!’’ Johnny declared, and 
Prue accepted the apples. 

Arrived at the store, they looked about for 
the proprietor, but Silas Barnes was dicker- 
ing with a farmer over the price of a lot of 
butter, while Joel Simpkins had gone off 
for a half-holiday. Prue looked eagerly into 
the case where a small lot of candy was 
kept, while Hi edged toward the door. He 
thought he saw a chance to economize. 


90 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


Really, he couldn’t find pennies often enough 
to treat Prue every time that he escorted 
her. 

“ Come, Prue,” he called, “ we can’t wait 
all day fer him ter git through talkin’. Put 
yer letter ’side er the mail-bag, an’ the next 
time we come daown here I’ll buy ye er 
treat.” 

Prue left the letter beside the bag, never 
once thinking that it was a careless thing to 
do; her one regret was that Hi’s coins re- 
mained in his pocket, and the candy was 
still in the case. 

As they trudged along the road. Hi as- 
sured her that she was the nicest girl he 
knew, but the little maid considered his 
compliments empty. She had dreamed of 
something more tangible than adjectives. 

To his statement that he would rather 
play with her than any girl in the village, 
because he considered her the prettiest, and 
sweetest, she made what Hi considered an 
irrelevant reply. 

“Johnny Buffum’s a very nice boy; I 


A HASTY RESOLVE 


91 


shouldn’t wonder if I played with Mm to- 
morrow,” she said. 

And when Silas Barnes secured the but- 
ter at a bargain price he remembered that 
some parcels of new goods had been left 
lying upon the counter, and he proceeded to 
arrange the packages upon the shelves. He 
had an eye for the decorative, and long he 
pondered over the mighty question as to the 
comparative beauty of alternate packages 
in blue and yellow wrappers, or a single 
row of yellow corn-starch packets with a 
complete row of blue-wrapped laundry 
starch below it. 

A small boy who had hurried in watched 
Silas as he arranged and re-arranged his 
stock. He picked up the letter and, for want 
of better amusement, slipped it in and out 
of a crack in the counter. He did it many 
times, while with fascinated eyes he watched 
Silas. A big fly came in at the open door 
and, as if with deliberate intention, flew 
directly toward Silas, and buzzed about his 


ears. 


92 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


“ Drat ye ! ” he exclaimed, and the startled 
boy lost his hold upon the letter, and it fell 
through the crack. 

Barnes turned to catch the fly and, for the 
flrst time, saw the boy. 

“ Hello, sonny ! What yer want? ” 

The frightened boy thought that Barnes 
knew of the letter and in a moment would 
miss it. 

“ I fergot my arrant,” he said, and rushed 
from the store. 

For weeks the letter lay beneath the coun- 
ter, until Joel Simpkins, stooping to look 
for a pencil which he had dropped, found it, 
and, never guessing how long it had been 
delayed, dropped it into the mail bag. 

Helen was puzzled that her letter received 
no reply, while Bandy, as the weeks went 
by, wondered that Helen wrote never a word 
of regret that they could not together enjoy 
the pleasures which she had planned. 

Bandy’s resolve to go to the little farm 
as messenger from Aunt Prudence had 


A HASTY RESOLVE 


93 


caused a sensation in the household, and 
every member of the family looked at it 
from a different standpoint. 

The Squire approved, but ardently wished 
that it had not been imperative that someone 
should go, and that Randy should be the one. 
Her mother questioned if it might not be 
that an older person could do better, and 
believed that Randy would find the situation 
difficult. 

Prue cried without restraint at the 
thought of her Randy’s departure, while 
Philury, usually so blithe, so cheerful, went 
about her work in a manner which plainly 
showed that the thought of Randy’s pro- 
posed absence had chased away her gayety. 

“ I think I am right, father,” Randy said. 
“ Aunt Prudence’s sprained wrist will keep 
her here for some weeks; and think of the 
long stay she has made with us, just because 
she knew that she was a help and a comfort 
to us. I feel as if I must help her now.” 

“ And so you shall, Randy,” the Squire 
replied ; “ I believe ye kin do well fer Aunt 


94 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


Prudence, an’ I’m glad ye’re willin’ ter try. 
I guess you’ll hev ter write home often, 
tho’ ; we’ll hev ter hear from ye ’s often as 
ev’ry day er so.” 

The few days occupied with hasty prepa- 
ration flew by as if impelled by magic, and 
even after they had watched the long train 
out of sight it seemed impossible that Randy 
was hastening toward Aunt Prudence’s lit- 
tle farm. 

Jotham had been at the train. He had 
been sorry enough that it had been necessary 
for her to go, but resolving to do something 
to make the long ride bearable, he had 
brought some flowers, a box of candy, and 
an interesting book. 

“ Not very much to offer you, Randy,” he 
had said, “ but enough to tell you that your 
friend goes with you in heart, if not in 
person.” 

It was impossible to say that one member 
of the family missed Randy more than did 
the others, but the two who showed most 
what her absence cost them were Prue and 


A HASTY RESOLVE 


95 


Philury. It had been Philury’s habit to sing 
persistently, continuously, and even boister- 
ously while about her work. She was wont 
to string together phrases, and if an occa- 
sional rhyme occurred, Philury called it 
poetry. These verses she sang to music, 
equally original, and the result was a series 
of musical compositions which were always 
amazing, and frequently sufficiently noisy to 
be called “ stunning.” 

One morning Prue ran out to see if 
Johnny Buffum or his sisters were in sight, 
or if Hi Babson might be seen coming up 
the road. 

“ Bandy’s away, an’ nobody’s in sight to 
play with ; I do’no’ what I want to do. Tab- 
by’s new kitten ain’t been named yet, an’ 
it’s ten or ’leven weeks old,” she said. She 
had been reading her old book of fairy tales 
and trying to decide if Prince or King were 
suitable names to bestow upon the kitten. 
She picked him up and ran toward the 
house, intending to ask Philury’s advice. 

Hark! Was that Philury singing? Yes, 


96 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


it surely was ; but why was she singing with 
that subdued, nasal tone, and what was she 
singing? 

Prue listened, and her eyes grew round, 
for this is what she heard : 

“ Sugar don’t taste sweet to me, 

Kerosene’s as good as tea, 

Bread an’ butter tastes like hay 
Whilst aour Randy stays away.” 

A wail from Prue was the tribute which 
the small girl paid Philury’s exceedingly 
doleful composition as she burst into the 
room, holding the kitten in her arms, while 
the tears rolled down her cheeks. 

“ Oh, oh, oh ! ” she cried, while Philury, 
with genuine concern, looked Prue over, ex- 
pecting to find unusually large bumps or 
scratches. 

“ Whatever’s the matter, Prue? ” she 
asked ; “ neither you nor the kitten has got 
any broken bones.’’ 

“No, no! ” wailed the small girl, “ ’tain’t 
nothing broke ; it’s the tune you was singing. 
’Tis just real horrid to have Eandy away. 


A HASTY EESOLVE 97 

but that tune made me cry. I was just com- 
ing in to ask you which you would name the 
kitten, Prince or King, but that tune made 
me cry, an’ I fergot the kitten.” 

“Wal, now, I’m reel sorry my chunes 
made ye so upsot. S’pose we settle on that 
little critter’s name right naow, an’ then ter 
cel’brate an’ cheer ye I’ll sing a chune that’ll 
make ye feel jest gay,” 

Prue smiled through her tears, 

“Naow, they’s some outlandish folks,” 
said Philury, “ I can’t think where they live, 
what names their children this way. They 
set the babies daown an’ watch ter see what 
they do fust, an’ then name ’em accordin’. 
Let’s set the kitten daown an’ see what 
she’ll do.” 

Prue dropped kitty upon the floor, and it 
scampered out of the room, sprang from the 
doorstone, and then commenced to bite a 
long grass blade. 

“ There ! ” exclaimed Philury, “ they is 
some sense in the idee. The little imp is 
eatin’ grass; that shows his name is goin’ 


98 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


ter be Nebuchadnezzar. Don’t ye know the 
lesson Sunday was ’baout him? ” 

“Why, so it was,” agreed Prue, greatly 
impressed. 

Philury’s eyes twinkled. 

“ Ye can call him Nezzy fer short,” she 
suggested. 

“ No, no, I won’t,” cried Prue; “ we’ll call 
the whole name, even if we’re in a hurry,” 
she said; “an’ now sing something jolly; 
you promised, you know.” 

The girl was trnly sorry that her own 
sadness becanse of Eandy’s absence had 
caused her to sing so doleful a song that 
Prue had been moved to tears. She thought 
a moment, then she said : 

“ Haow’li this do? 

“ Randy’s cornin’ home, I guess, 

In several weeks, some more er less. 

An’ when aour Randy’s come ter taown. 

Ye’ll see us dance right up an’ daown.” 

A rollicking tune accompanied the words, 
and Prue, with a smiling face, declared the 
song to be “ just beautiful.” 


CHAPTEE VI 


A TEST OP LOYALTY 

As Eandy hastened up the little gravel 
path, the dust-laden weeds left their imprint 
upon her skirt, and the garden beds showed 
all too plainly that they had been neglected. 

Aunt Prudence had many times changed 
the management upon her little place, and 
as Randy glanced from the unkempt garden 
toward the house, the dingy curtain blown 
by the breeze from the open window made 
her wonder if the present caretaker were 
the worst of the lot. 

As if to prove that the house and garden 
were not the only untidy objects to be seen, 
the door opened, and a slatternly woman 
came down the path. 

“ I’m some expectin’ comp’ny ; be ye Mis’ 
Weston’s niece? ” she asked. “ Seems ter 
me ye look kinder young ter know much 
’baout runnin’ a place.” 

99 


LOFi; 


100 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


Eandy longed to tell the woman that a 
child could see that the place was in des- 
perate need of care, but she knew that such 
a statement would be resented; the woman 
looked capable of saying or doing anything 
which was disagreeable. 

“ I am Randy Weston, and I shall try to 
see what can he done. Aunt Prudence has 
given me some instructions and although, 
as you say, I am young, I believe that I can 
follow them.” 

The woman looked at her curiously. 
“ Wal, they do say young folks ’most alius 
thinks they can do gret dunders,” she said, 
and tossing her head, she turned toward the 
house. 

It had required a deal of courage for 
Randy to assume so much responsibility, 
and now that she had reached her destina- 
tion, and stood facing the task, she earnestly 
hoped that she might acquit herself credit- 
ably. Upon one thing she was determined: 
she would be mistress of the situation. She 
had arrived in the afternoon, and had found 


A TEST OF LOYALTY 


101 


the room assigned to her a most unattractive 
one. From its tiny window she looked 
out toward meadow-land and field, and at 
once saw the contrast between the neglected 
crops upon Aunt Prudence’s little farm 
and the well-tilled acres of her father’s 
property. 

She was lonely and homesick, but she 
thought of Aunt Prudence and knew that 
the farm had been nearly ruined because its 
generous owner had been thoughtful for her 
brother’s family, and forgetful of self. 

“I’ll try to be generous,” thought Kandy, 
“and to-morrow I’ll look about to learn 
where I’d best begin ; ” but before she slept 
that night she had decided exactly what her 
first step would be. 

If the woman had been unattractive at 
first sight, her husband proved to be even 
less prepossessing, nor was his manner re- 
assuring. The evening repast caused Randy 
a fresh attack of homesickness. Coarse 
bread of a grimy color, slices of fried salt 
pork, and, as if to give piquancy to the fru- 


102 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


gal meal, cucumbers were served which, 
judging from their wilted condition, must 
have been off the vines at least a week. 

“ This ain’t much of er meal fer com- 
p’ny,” Mrs. Skinner, remarked, “but we 
didn’t know ye was cornin’ ter-day.” 

“Do’no’ what diff’rence ’twould made ef 
we had; this is ’baout all this ’ere place 
affords. ’Taint no kind er place, anyhaow,” 
growled her husband. Then followed a 
lengthy catalogue of those things which the 
farm lacked, to which Eandy listened with 
ill-concealed impatience, while she mentally 
added two other things which Mr. Skinner 
had not mentioned — ^a competent farmer 
and a neat housekeeper. 

The morning woke so bright, so fair, that 
one might have thought it designed that 
every living thing might have a holiday. 

Eandy looked from the little chamber 
window and smiled as a spray of the clam- 
bering vine swung in and touched her cheek. 

“A pleasant greeting,” she whispered, 


A TEST OF LOYALTY 


103 


and cheered by the sunshine and the vine’s 
caress, she wondered if after all Mrs. Skin- 
ner and her husband would be tractable, and 
the task which she had attempted to perform 
less arduous than it appeared. 

It is a strange fact that many people will 
neglect their own business if, by so doing, 
they can gain time to direct another per- 
son’s affairs. Thus they pose as being espe- 
cially kind-hearted and generous, whereas 
in truth they are actuated only by curiosity 
and an intense longing to be meddlesome. 

One of these tiresome individuals dropped 
every household duty in the laudable desire 
to sally forth and call at the tiny farmhouse 
to offer some advice to the very young per- 
son in charge. 

Eandy, at the window, was reaching out, 
attempting to train the straggling vines 
which clambered around the window. She 
had removed the untidy sash curtains, and 
had directed Mrs. Skinner to wash them, 
thereby offending her, and causing her to 
return to the kitchen to indulge in a fit of 


104 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


sulks. Having said that the curtains should 
be washed, Randy ignored the woman’s un- 
pleasant attitude. 

She was humming a little tune, and fas- 
tening the vines in place when she heard 
footsteps approaching while a heavy im- 
plement marked time for the vigorous pe- 
destrian. 

Randy turned to look at the stranger just 
as the woman reached the window. 

Don’t bother to open the door ; I ain’t 
cornin’ in,” she remarked, “ fer I’m in er 
hurry, an’ I kin say all I’ve got ter standin’ 
right here. S’pose ye’d like ter know who 
I be, wouldn’t ye? Wal, I’m Mrs. Jehiel 
Hinks, an’ my fust cousin’s husband’s 
second son was postmaster er this taown 
oncet.” 

Randy could not deny the fact stated, nor 
could she understand why the woman had 
walked any distance to tell her. 

“ Indeed,” she demurely replied. 

Thus encouraged, the woman grasped her 
pudgy umbrella yet more firmly, and sought 



“ Wal, I’m Mrs. Jehiel Hinks.” — Page 104 





A TEST OF LOYALTY 


105 


further to enlighten Eandy as to her pedi- 
gree. 

“ Yes, an’ my gran’ther fit inter the Eev’- 
lution, an’ my gret aunt’s husband was er 
lawyer, so I know somethin’.” 

Eandy could not see that that was proven, 
hut she could not say so. She nodded and 
smiled to signify that she had heard, and 
the loquacious one proceeded. 

“ Yes, an’ I took my ambrill — ^ye never kin 
tell when it may rain — an’ drapped ev’ry- 
thing ter come over ter give ye er few idees, 
an’ I had ter travel four miles an’ er half 
ter do it.” 

“ You meant to be kind,” Eandy replied, 
“ but I think I shall be able to get on nicely 
with the directions which Aunt Prudence 
gave me before I came.” 

‘‘ She may have give yer d’rections what 
ter do, but she couldn’t tell ye what has been 
did, fer she ain’t been here ter know. Naow 
I know, an’ I’m goin’ ter tell ye. 

“ Fust thing ter tell ye is that ye’d better 
look aout fer Skinner; he’ll bear watchin’. 


106 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


Next, ye’d better see that Ob’diah Wilson’s 
boy ain’t often on the place. Young Ob’- 
diah’s er reg’lar limb er Satan, an’ I ain’t the 
only one what says so. Why, that ’ere 
youngster wouldn’t mind firin’ yer cat inter 
yer rain-water barrel, ef he was mejum sure 
’twould pester ye.” 

Randy laughed. 

He can’t do that,” she said, “ for we 
have no rain-water barrel, and no cat.” 

I see by the way ye laugh that ye treat 
this business reel flippant, but ye shouldn’t. 
Naow, ye may not hev noticed it, but they’s 
er number er slats busted in the hencoop.” 

“ I know it, but as we have no hens, I’m 
trying to have other repairing done first,” 
said Randy. She was tired of the woman’s 
persistence. 

“ Did ye know some er the stuns is tum- 
bled off’n the wall ’side er the cornfield, an’ 
the punkins is bein’ trod onter, most likely 
by the neighbors’ boys? ” 

“ I believe I know what the place needs,” 
said Randy. 


A TEST OF LOYALTY 


107 


Oh, ye do, do ye? Wal, yer aunt ain’t 
no kind of er woman ter leave her prop’ty 
fer er gal ter manage, d’ye know that? ” 

Eandy’s eyes flashed. 

“ I know that Aunt Prudence is one of the 
best women in the world, and I know, too, 
that I’ll not let anyone, say a word against 
her.” 

‘‘ Tut, tut, tut ! Ye needn’t be ’fended ; I 
only mean ter say that ef she’d er stayed 
here an’ minded the farm, ’stead er gal’- 
vantin’ raound er vis’tin’ rel’tives while she 
let ev’rything go ter loose ends here, the 
place would look like somethin’. She ain’t 
no manager; anybody could see that, an’ ef 

she hadn’t been so foolish ” 

‘‘mop!” 

The woman actually jumped back a 
step, while with open mouth she regarded 
Eandy. 

“ You cannot talk so about Aunt Pru- 
dence, for I am too loyal to listen. If you 
try to say one more unkind word about her 
I shall close this window.” 


108 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


“ Ye’ve got er sensible face, so I’d think 
ye’d be willin’ ter listen ter reason. Ef 
ye’re so turrible sens’tive ’baout haow a 
body speaks of yer relations, I wonder ef 
ye’d be techy ef I spoke er the cabbages. 
They ain’t headin’ up, an’ they’s one thing 
ye’ll Jiev ter do; ye’ll hev ter watch Mis’ 
Skinner.” 

“No she won’t, fer ye’ll do ’nough watch- 
in’ fer two, any day,” screamed Mrs. Skin- 
ner, who, having heard a familiar voice, had 
entered the sitting-room just in time to hear 
the remarks regarding herself. 

As if propelled by steam, the self-elected 
adviser hurried away around the corner of 
the house in order that she might make a 
short cut across the fields where at the door 
of another persistent gossip she could tell 
what she had seen and heard. 

While laughing at Mrs. Hinks’s hasty re- 
treat, Mrs. Skinner forgot to sulk, and she 
also forgot to do any of those things of 
which Randy had spoken. In the afternoon 
Bandy wrote a letter to the dear ones at 


A TEST OF LOYALTY 


109 


home, in which she tried to speak cheerfully 
of affairs at the little farm. 

So trying was the following week that had 
the writing of the letter been postponed, it 
would have been a far less cheery epistle 
which the Squire’s family received. 

When a week had passed, Randy realized 
that the time had come when patience had 
ceased to be a virtue. If the housekeeper 
was inclined to let the house keep itself, her 
husband was no less neglectful of his duties 
at the farm. 

Crops which had given promise early in 
the season were now choked with weeds, 
and the hoe being an unpopular implement 
with Dave Skinner, he promptly announced 
it as his opinion, that “’twould ruin the 
craps ter hoe ’em naow.” 

It was evident that all efforts to reclaim 
the farm were futile, so long as Dave Skin- 
ner and his wife remained upon the place. 

“ Ef any time ye git where ye’d like er bit 
of advice without waitin’ ter write ter me 
for’t, go daown the road quite er piece 


110 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


toward the village till ye come ter the big- 
gest farmhouse ever seen, painted yaller. 
One er the best men that ever lived lives 
there. His name’s Matthew Langdon. Ask 
him ter set ye straight, Randy, an’ ye kin 
depend he’ll do it.” 

This had been Aunt Prudence’s advice 
when she had held Randy’s hand at parting. 

“ I can’t do better than to call upon Mr. 
Langdon now,” she thought. To think was 
to act, and telling Mrs. Skinner that she was 
going out for a short time, Randy hurried 
down the road in search of the “biggest 
farmhouse ” which she had ever seen. 

The long, winding road was shaded by 
huge trees whose leafy branches interlaced 
overhead, the sunlight danced a flickering 
measure, the tiny blossoms swayed in the 
breeze, and Randy, after she had passed sev- 
eral small farmhouses, began to wonder if 
the “ biggest ” house had disappeared. 

It was a beautiful road, but the houses 
now seemed farther apart, and Randy was 
beginning to wish it might have been less 


A TEST OF LOYALTY 


111 


lonely, when the trill of a merry whistle 
was followed by the barefoot whistler com- 
ing around the bend of the road. He saw 
Randy and stopped whistling, glanced shyly 
up at her, and was intending to pass, when 
she paused to question him. 

“ Do you know where Mr. Langdon 
lives? ” she asked. 

The small boy looked up at her with 
ardent admiration. 

“ Yep,” he responded. “ Ain’t your hair 
curly though? Sis does hern up on papers 
ev’ry night, but it don’t look like that.” 

“ Is his house far from here? ” questioned 
Randy, ignoring his outspoken compliment. 

“ Leetle further’n I kin fire er stone. 
Want me ter show ye where? I’d like ter 
go ’long er ye,” he said. 

“ Indeed, yes,” she said, smiling at the 
boy’s eagerness, “ I’d like your company.” 

For a time they trudged along in silence, 
Randy eager to reach Mr. Langdon’s home, 
and wondering how he would receive her, 
and if he would be kind; while the boy 


113 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


studied her face and marveled at its charm. 
At last he spoke. 

“Ye look like that heriwine of er story 
in er paper what I found, an’ pa licked me 
fer readin’,” he said. “ The gal had shinin’ 
hair, an’ the picture on the front page made 
me want ter read the story. I faound the 
paper an’ sot daown behind the barn ter 
read it, an’ Jest as I got ter the place where 
the villain what had been an’ gone an’ 
hooked her dimun’s was bein’ ketched, pa 
ketched me, an’ I was sorry — sorry he 
ketched me, I mean. 

“ That’s his haouse.” 

Eandy looked in the direction which the 
boy’s finger indicated. She was amused by 
his story, and she knew that he expected her 
to sympathize with him. She knew, too, 
from his description of the paper that his 
father had doubtless been wise and right, 
but she could not deny that it was trying in 
the extreme to be ruthlessly snatched from 
reading a story when he had reached its 
most interesting point. 


A TEST OF LOYALTY 


113 


“ That’s his haouse, but he don’t seem ter 
be now’eres raound. Say, be ye goin’ ter 
visit him? ” 

“ Oh, no, only just doing an errand, and 
making a call,” she said. 

“ Oh, — I was goin’ ter say I’d call on ye, 
ef ye was er stayin’ there, ’cause ye’re so 
pretty, an’ I like ye. Ye look like the gal 
I couldn’t read ’baout.” 

His little face was doleful and Eandy 
smiled upon her ardent little admirer. 

“ And so you shall,” she said. “ I am 
Eandy Weston, and just now I’m staying 
at Aunt Prudence Weston’s farm. You 
may call to-morrow if you like.” 

“ Bet I will,” he said ; “ an’ say, I’m Oba- 
diah Wilson’s boy. They call me Obed fer 
short; you kin. I’ll let ye.” 

So this was the “ limb of Satan ” ! Eandy 
laid her hand upon his shoulder, and smiled 
at the upturned face. 

“ I’ll call you Obed, and you may come 
over to see me; you’ve been a fine little es- 
cort,” she said. 


114 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


She turned toward the great yellow house, 
while the small boy hurried down the road 
with footsteps light as air. He had been 
denied the pleasure of reading about a beau- 
tiful heroine, but he had met a live one, and 
she had called him her escort. He did not 
know exactly what that meant, hut he fan- 
cied it must be a knight or something equally 
fine. 

The perfume of mignonette, of many-hued 
nasturtiums, of roses and pinks came fioat- 
ing toward her as she stood upon the door- 
stone and rang the tiny bell. The trim gar- 
den beds were kept in perfect order, and 
what a wealth of bloom they were offering 
the one who loved the fiowers and expended 
so much time upon them. 

She watched the butterflies hovering over 
the flowers, while here and there a bee 
droned his drowsy music. Out from be- 
neath a clump of marigolds a huge yellow- 
legged hen came to eye the intruder with 
wonder and curiosity. Having scrutinized 
the girl, and decided that she was harmless. 


A TEST OF LOYALTY 


115 


she picked her way down the walk, uttering 
contented little clucks. 

Kandy wondered if no one was at home. 
She rang the bell more vigorously. This 
time she heard sounds as of someone com- 
ing through the hall. When the door opened 
Kandy looked up at the handsome, elderly 
man who stood waiting to hear what her 
errand might be. 

“ What a kindly face ! ” she thought. “ I 
should like to see Mr. Langdon,” she said. 

‘‘ Then come right in, for I am Matthew 
Langdon,” was the genial reply, and his 
pleasant smile and warm handclasp told 
Kandy that she had found a friend. 

He led her into a cheery sitting-room, 
offered her a quaint, chintz-covered chair, 
and drawing another from its place against 
the wall, sat opposite her with an air of 
being ready to listen to what she had to 
say. 

“ I am Kandy Weston, and I am staying 
at my aunt’s little farm,” she said, “ and 
to-day I found myself so puzzled ” 


116 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


She had not intended to tell him how 
hard the task had been, but the tremor in her 
voice told him of her homesickness, her in- 
ability to cope with the problems before her; 
told him more clearly than words could have 
done. 

He leaned forward and took her hands in 
his. 

“ Why, my dear girl,” he said, in real con- 
cern, are you staying with Dave Skinner 
and his wife, while they try to run the 
farm? ” 

Kandy restrained the tears which rose 
at the touch of the friendly hand. He 
should not think her weak and silly. 

“They are not half trying to run the 
farm, but they are trying to run me, and I 
came here believing that I could do so well 
for Aunt Prudence.” 

Then she told him of Aunt Prudence’s 
kindness, and that her little farm had been 
neglected because of her devotion to her 
brother’s family. 

“ I thought the least I could do for her 


A TEST OF LOYALTY 


117 


was to come here and set the place in order, 
and thus far IVe accomplished nothing. 
Think how well I promised, and what have 
I to tell her? ” 

She looked up into the kind gray eyes. 

“ Tell her, the next letter ye write, that 
things are goin’ on all right, an’ that in 
less’n no time the place ’ll look fine. Ye 
may wait a few days ’fore writin’, an’ be- 
tween you ’n’ me yer Aunt Prudence’s place 
’ll be ready ter take er prize. We’ll run it 
tergether, an’ with yer permission, we’ll run 
the Skinners aout, an’ run somebody wuth 
havin’ in.” 

“ Then you will help me; oh, how shall I 
thank you?” she asked. 

His eyes twinkled as he said, “ By tellin’ 
me haow ye happened ter come ter me, for 
I’m glad ’nough ye did.” 

“ Aunt Prudence told me, if at any time I 
found myself perplexed, to go at once to you, 
and you would advise me.” 

“ Oh, she did, did she? Wal, there are 
few things I wouldn’t do fer yer Aunt Pru- 


118 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


dence. She’s the finest, the best woman I 
ever knew,” said Mr. Langdon. 

“ Why, she told me that you were the best 
man in the world,” Eandy replied. 

“ Wal, there was only one time that she 
wouldn’t listen ter me, but that’s a good 
while ago.” 

His eyes had become thoughtful, dreamy, 
but he rose and endeavored to shake off his 
reminiscent mood, 

“ I’ll be over the fust thing ter-morrer 
morning,” he said, “an’ together we’ll see 
haow fast we kin make things fiy.” 

It was with a light heart that Randy left 
him, and she turned at his gate to nod and 
smile at him. 

“ I’ll be prompt,” he called. 

“ And I shall be so glad to see you,” 
Randy replied. 


CHAPTER VII 


JABEZ BEIMBLECOM’S SCHEME 

The usual group of gossips and news- 
gatherers were assembled in Barnes’s store, 
engaged, as usual, in discussing the affairs 
of the village, the political situation, and a 
few other trifles which they felt quite capa- 
ble of handling. 

Joel Simpkins had stated it as his opinion 
that Josiah Boyden as a property -holder 
and influential citizen was not an ornament 
to the town, and also that the President 
was not properly Ailing his position as chief 
executive, whereat, old Nate Burnham told 
Joel to run for President the next term, 
and thus try to get a chance to save the 
country. 

News was scarce, and crops had been 
talked of until there was nothing left to be 
said, while there was hardly one member of 


119 


120 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


the village social life who had not been dis- 
cussed, when Jabez Brimblecom sauntered 
into the store. 

Immediately the group of chatterers as- 
sumed an air of interest; Jabez always had 
something to say. 

He was a typical farmer, whose shrewd, 
kindly face was brightened by a pair of 
twinkling blue eyes. He joined the group, 
withdrew the straw which he had been chew- 
ing, and made a remark which surprised his 
friends. 

“ I’m goin’ daown ter Hosting ter visit 
Mis’ C. Barnard Boardman, my Cousin 
Sabriny Brimblecom that was.” 

“ Coin’ ter visit Sabriny? ” 

“ I snum! Ye’ve got taste! ” 

“ Thought ye’d seen ’baout ’nough er her.” 

Ye worked ’tarnal hard ter git good an’ 
rid of her the last time she visited ye; what 
possesses ye ter go ’n’ make up with her? ” 

Such were the comments which his speech 
called forth. Jabez waited until their ex- 
citement had abated, then he said : 


JABEZ BEIMBLECOM’8 SCHEME 131 

“ So I did see ’nough of her, an’ that’s 
why I’m goin’ daown ter visit her. When 
she was here, me an’ Mis’ Brimblecom got 
mejum tired of her, fer she was what most 
folks called tremenjous dis’gree’ble. I kep 
settin’ jobs fer her to do, thinkin’ I’d tire 
her aout, but it didn’t work till I axed her 
ter pick pertater bugs. She was reel mad, 
an’ she packed all her fine duds an’ took 
the fust train fer home. She vaowed she’d 
never visit us ag’in, but jest fer fear she’ll 
think better on’t, I’m goin’ ter visit her. I’ll 
bet I kin keep her off.” 

“ ’Twould be a joke on ye ’f she came galli- 
vantin’ home with ye, Jabez,” chuckled Nate 
Burnham. 

‘‘ She won’t do that. I’ll promise ye,” 
Jabez replied, “ fer she ’baout disgusted us 
with her showy clothes, her par’sols, an’ 
bunnits trimmed with feathers an’ fringe an’ 
goodness knows what else ; an’ while she was 
a-wearin’ of ’em, never liftin’ er finger ter 
help Mis’ Brimblecom, but settin’ raound 
an’ tellin’ haow she was so turrible ’risty- 


122 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


cratic that she couldn’t wash dishes an’ 
sich. D’ye blame me fer axin’ her ter tackle 
them pertater bugs? ” 

“ I wish ye luck, Jabez,” said Silas 
Barnes, “ an’ we’d like ter hear haow your 
plan works.” 

“ I’ll let ye know,” said Jabez, and a 
chorus of voices wished him good luck ! 

‘‘ I’ve sent word I’m er cornin’,” said 
Jabez, “an’ I sent the letter jest so’s she 
won’t hev time ter tell me not ter. I’m goin’ 
ter take the four o’clock train this after- 
noon, an’ when I’ve been there long ’nough 
so’s they’s somethin’ ter tell ’baout. I’ll send 
ye er letter, Barnes, what ye kin read ter 
the craowd.” 

Jabez Brimblecom mounted the steps of 
the apartment house and rang the bell to 
announce that he had arrived. Then, plac- 
ing his huge carpet-bag upon the upper step, 
he leaned against the doorway. 

He knew that he might have to wait for a 
welcome, and his eyes twinkled merrily as 


JABEZ BBIMBLECOM’S SCHEME 123 

he wondered what sort of a welcome it 
would be. 

“Wonder ef she got my note, an’ what 
she’ll say when she gits good an’ ready ter 
come ter the door. It’s lucky I ain’t lookin’ 
fer what they call er ’fectionate greetin’, fer 
I won’t be s’prised when I don’t git it, but 
one thing I’ve sot my mind on ter: I’m er 
goin’ ter stay as long as I think it’s 
wuth while, whatsoever Sabriny does er 
says.” 

Having made this vow, Jabez ceased 
speaking, and commenced to whistle softly. 
He believed that Sabriny would not hasten 
to the door, so he continued to whistle to 
occupy his term of waiting. He had com- 
menced with “ Greenville,” followed it with 
“ Yankee Doodle,” next “ Hail, Columbia,” 
and, because these constituted his entire 
repertoire, reverted to his first selection, 
“ Greenville,” but before he had completed 
it the door opened, and Sabriny stood before 
him. 

“ Well, I declare ! ” she exclaimed. “ I 


124 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


read yer letter ’baout an hour ago, an’ ’fore 
I’ve ketched my breath, here ye be ! ” 

Ye don’t say ye’re pleased ter see me, 
Sabriny, but ye must be, ’s I’m yer cousin, 
so I’ll come right in,” said Jabez, and, 
grasping the handles of his carpet-bag, he 
stepped into the hall, and commenced to 
mount the stairs. 

Sabriny stared at the ascending figure, 
and then followed it up the three fiights to 
the tiny upper hall where the door of her 
small fiat stood open. And when they had 
sat down, it was Jabez who opened the con- 
versation. 

“ Wal, I declare, Sabriny, I’m glad I’ve 
arriv. This ’ere fiat ain’t very airy; but 
’twas a long trip in the cars, an’ I’m so kind 
er tired, I’m mejum glad ter be anywhere.” 

“ Haow’s Mis’ Brimblecom? ” 

Sabriny thus ignored Jabez’s remark by 
asking a question. 

“ She’s pooty well,” he replied, “ but not 
nigh well ’nough ter ent’tain comp’ny. 
That’s why I come daown ter see ye. Ef ye 


JABEZ BRIMBLECOM’S SCHEME 125 


couldn’t come up, I’d come daown, an’, Sa- 
briny, I’ve somethin’ ter tell ye; ev’ry time 
ye make us er visit, ye may caount on seein’ 
me, fer I’ll come right daown ter Bosting 
an’ return it.” 

“ Why, Jabez ! Haow kin ye leave the 
farm? ” 

“ Oh, Mis’ Brimblecom’s there ter hold 
the farm daown ; nobody’ll run away with it. 
Ye visit us ’most alius in the summer, an’ I 
can foller yer in the fall, when er visit ter 
Bosting is reel pleasant. Take it naow; 
’baout all the work is done, er underway, 
an’ the men know jest haow ter keep ter 
work till it’s finished. I kin spend six weeks 
with ye jest as well as not, an’ p’raps longer, 
ef ye say so.” 

Say so ! Sabriny could not think what to 
say. She said something about a bit of 
work which she must do, and left the room 
until she could regain her composure. 

“ Six weeks” she whispered, as she has- 
tened toward the little kitchen. 

“ Six weeks,” Jabez softly said ; “ I won- 


126 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


der ef I kin stand livin’ up a-top er tkis 
’ere place ’s long as that! What with the 
heat, an’ the skimpy meals, an’ Sabriny 
throw’d in, it’ll be doin’ stunts ter stay, I 
tell ye.” 

When Mr. C. Barnard Boardman came 
home and found his unexpected visitor he 
rose to the occasion and tried to be the 
genial host, but his pompous manner, as 
usual, disgusted Jabez. 

Mr. Boardman was a florid little man, 
whose shape and manner made one think of 
a small balloon. He shook his guest’s hand, 
and gave him an effusive welcome, which 
Sabriny considered the extreme of elegance, 
although she hoped that its fervor would not 
cause Jabez to stay even longer than he had 
intended. 

“ My very dear and esteemed relative,” 
said Mr. Boardman, ‘‘ I hasten to assure you 
of my unbounded delight and my limitless 
pleasure in having you as my guest; I may 
say our guest.” 

“Lan’, yes,” agreed Jabez, “ye kin say 


JABEZ BBIMBLEGOM’8 SCHEME 127 


aour comp’ny, fer reely Sabriny’s the reF- 
tive.” 

“ Truly, truly, as you have said,” twit- 
tered the little man, like an overgrown 
sparrow ; “ but I am proud to be considered 
a cousin, too.” 

“ Wal, I do’no’s I mind,” said Jabez, while 
under his breath he said : “ Wish he’d set 
daown, ’stead er floppin’ raound so.” 

“ I welcome you to our domicile.” 

“ ’S that what ye call it? ” questioned 
Jabez; “wal, I do’no’s I’ll ever git it 
straight. Fust I called it er ten’ment, but 
Sabriny wouldn’t hev that. Next, I called 
it er flat, but she said ’twas a apartment, 
an’ naow it’s a dommy — ^what is it? Er 
dommy-sile? Wal, I guess I kin remember 
that, but don’t change the name often; it 
makes it somewhat diff’kilt.” 

It was fortunate that Mr. Boardman 
spent but few hours of the day in his home, 
for little as Jabez cared for Sabriny, he 
liked her husband less. Always just, Jabez 
fully realized that Mr. Boardman intended 


128 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


to be kind, but his flashy dress, his exagger- 
ated courtesy, his restless manner, gave Ja- 
bez what he called the “ fidgits,” and he was 
delighted that the little man left home 
at an early hour, and usually returned 
late. 

If Sabriny had endeavored to make her- 
self a disagreeable guest, she had succeeded, 
and now she was a most unwilling hostess. 
She had spent long summers at the Brimble- 
com farm, yet she felt no generous impulse 
to return hospitality. 

Jabez’s attitude was most amusing. He 
settled down to endure, he could not enjoy 
his visit, and from his conversation and 
manner one could not have guessed if he 
had decided to stay a month or a year. 

It occurred to Sabriny that when she had 
last visited the farm, Jabez had been con- 
tinually setting tasks for her to do ; she had 
been greatly displeased, and had terminated 
her visit abruptly, and now she wondered 
how it would do to turn the tables and from 
time to time ask Jabez to help her in her 


JABEZ BBIMBLECOM’S SCHEME 129 


household duties. It might be that he would 
decide to make a short visit. Accordingly, 
one morning Sabriny bustled into the sit- 
ting-room, where Jabez sat reading the 
paper. 

“ Jabez! Jabez! ” she cried, “I want yer 
should come right aout an’ wipe my dishes.” 
She expected an indignant reply, and was 
disgusted with his cheerful acquiescence, 

“Wipe yer dishes? Why, yes, ’ndeed; ef 
they’s any one thing that’s more amusin’ 
than ’nother, it’s wipin’ dishes.” He fol- 
lowed her to the kitchen and swung the great 
towel around and over the plates and sau- 
cers with such amazing vigor that Mrs. 
Boardman began to wish that she had not 
asked him to attempt the task. 

“ Look out, Jabez ! Ye’ll land them plates 
on the floor ef ye ain’t keerful,” she cried. 

“ Don’t ye be narvous, Sabriny,” was the 
cheerful answer. “ I’m wipin’ vig’rous, but 
I ain’t drappin’ nothin’, an’ when dinner- 
time comes I’ll tell ye naow I’ll peel yer per- 
taters; ef they’s any one thing I hanker fer, 


130 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


it’s er chance ter peel veg’tables. Sometimes 
it seems ’s ef I fairly itched ter.” 

Sabriny was puzzled. What could be done 
with such a cheerful helper? Task after 
task she offered him, and Jabez did each 
one, sometimes smiling so continuously that, 
as she watched him, she wondered if he con- 
sidered housework a joke. 

After a few days, Sabriny decided that, 
in the interest of economy, it would be best 
to excuse Jabez from performing household 
tasks, for he swept the dining-room carpet 
so furiously that it began to show that a 
muscular hand wielded the broom. Places 
which had been thin now showed small 
holes. His zealous dish-wiping had been 
nothing less than a cyclone in the kitchen, 
and as a result many pieces had been 
broken, while as a vegetable-parer, Jabez 
had shown himself to be a lightning 
worker. 

Economy was one of Sabriny’s many 
whims, and when she saw that Jabez was 
removing a full half inch of potato with the 


JABEZ BBIMBLECOM’S SCHEME 131 


skin, she felt that the limit of extravagance 
had been reached. 

At the Brimblecom farm a generous meal 
was served, and Jabez wondered how long 
he could patiently subsist upon the diminu- 
tive feasts which graced Sabriny’s table. 

One morning, when he began to think that 
patience was ceasing to be a virtue, Sabriny 
announced that she was going down town 
to do a few errands. 

“All right,” Jabez replied, cheerfully. 
“ I’ll spend the time whilst ye’re aout er 
writin’ er letter ter er friend up home.” 
And as soon as he was alone, Jabez sat down 
to write the promised letter to Silas Barnes. 
His merry eyes were twinkling, his shrewd 
mouth was puckered as if about to whistle, 
and sometimes he chuckled as his letter 
described some of the events of his visit. 
And when the letter reached the village store 
it found an eager audience awaiting it. In- 
deed, the curious group which habitually 
lounged about the place had began to think 
that Jabez Brimblecom had forgotten his 


132 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


promise, when one morning Silas Barnes, 
while sorting the mail, paused and waved 
one letter aloft. 

‘‘ Hurrah fer Jabez ! ” he cried. “ I guess 
we’re all ’baout ready ter hear from him, an’ 
I’ll stop right naow ter read it; the rest er 
the mail can wait er spell.” 

“ That’s so, Silas ! ” 

Give us Jabez’s, an’ let the others stan’ 
er while.” 

“ Git the onwalope ofif’n it, an’ come over 
here an’ read it.” 

‘‘ Don’t ye be so rampageous,” Silas 
drawled ; “ I’ve got the thing undid. Jabez 
was in er hurry, an’ he didn’t half lick the 
flap, so I only jest had ter pick it open. 
Naow I can’t find my specs.” 

The eager crowd fumed while Silas 
searched in vest pockets and trousers pock- 
ets, on the counter, and in the desk, until 
Joel Simpkins shouted in triumph: 

“ Here they be ! I faound them on top er 
the m’lasses barrel, within er inch er floppin’ 
in.” 


JABEZ BRIMBLECOM’8 SCHEME 133 


“ Wal, they hadn’t flopped in, so ye’d 
needn’t er mentioned it,” said Silas, testily. 
There were times when he wished that Joel 
could be a little less pert. He adjusted his 
spectacles, and opened the letter and read : 

“ Friend Barnes : 

I was a-goin’ ter tell ye that ‘ I naow 
take my pen in hand,’ but I remember that 
I hev wrote that at the top er the page of 
every letter I hev ever sent ye, so I won’t do 
it agin. I’ll jest tell ye the truth ; I grabbed 
the pen as soon as Sabriny had started aout 
ter do some arrants, an’ I’m goin’ ter give ye 
er idee er my visit. 

“ Fust of all, ye know Sabriny, so I 
needn’t describe her, ’cept ter say that she’s 
the same ticket she’s alius been, only more 
so. Naow, knowin’ her to be some pernick- 
erty, an’ havin’ detarmined ter make er good 
long stay, I’ve sot myself to endure her no- 
tions, but it’s quite er stunt. 

“ She ain’t what ye’d call er lib’ral per- 
vider, and le’me tell ye ’baout er dinner we 


134 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


had last week. ’Twa’n’t much use ter er 
called it dinner ; they was so little of it that 
ye reely needn’t er called it anything. They 
had it fixed in what Sabriny calls ‘ courses,’ 
an’ some on ’em is coarse, an’ some is so 
pesky fine ye can’t hardly see ’em. 

“ Wal, fust we had some sloppy stuff in 
the bottom of our soup plates. They was 
only ’baout three spoonfuls of it, but Ian’ 
knows that was ’nough, fer it look’d like 
dish-water, an’ tasted er jest nothin’ ’tall. 

“ ‘ Haow d’ye like yer soup, Jabez?’ she 
asked. 

“ I didn’t want ter be imp’lite an’ say I 
didn’t, so, says I : ‘ ’Tain’t no use ter try ter 
tell ye whether I liked it, fer I couldn’t tell 
the taste with one mouthful, an’ when I took 
the second, ’twas all gone.’ I don’t wonder 
she called it er ‘ coarse ’ ; ’twas kind er com- 
mon tastin’, I will say. 

“ Wal, next she fetched er big platter 
through the kitchen doorway. When I seen 
her cornin’ with that platter, what was ’most 
as big as half the table, I thought p’raps it 


JABEZ BRIMBLECOM’S SCHEME 135 


had somethin’ onto it what was wuth eatin’, 
but le’me tell ye! She sot that ’ere platter 
daown an’ I jest ketched my breath. Silas, 
ef ye’ll b’lieve me, all there was on it was 
the lonesomest little fish ye ever seen. Ac- 
tooally, when Boardman took up the big 
fork an’ carvin’ knife it seemed coward-like 
ter tackle the leetle critter. Beetle as it was, 
Boardman managed to chop aout four 
pieces; that made er piece er fish fer each 
of us, an’ one left over. That piece wa’n’t 
much bigger’n er postage stamp, but I’ll bet 
Sabriny ’ll make at least half er gallon er 
chowder aout er it. 

“ We finished off with er pie that looked 
’s ef it had been sot onto, an’ she cut it inter 
nine pieces. I says, says I, ‘ With some cal’- 
latin’, Sabriny, ye could er cut that pie inter 
ten pieces; nine ter eat and one ter carry, 
as we used ter say at the deestrict school.’ 
Sabriny don’t never see a joke, an’ she jest 
looked at me er minute, an’ then she said: 
‘ Carry where? ’ 

« < rpgj. ffiQQtin’ ef yer want ter ! ’ I snapped. 


136 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


fer I was pooty nigh wore aout with that 
dinner. 

“ Sabriny, when she lived ter hum, used 
ter wear caliker wrappers, and after she 
married Boardman an’ came ter visit us they 
wasn’t wrappers, they was tea-gaowns. 
Naow she wears things she calls matty-nees, 
and they look like night-gowns. I told her 
that, an’ she said : 

“ ‘ Naow, Cousin Jabez, I wish ye hadn’t 
such idees. This ’ere matty-nee is reely el’- 
gant!’ I didn’t say ’twa’n’t; what’s the 
use? 

“ Boardman has had one er his tur’ble 
big-feelin’ days agin. Not but he alius feels 
big ’nough, but oncet in er while he gits 
puffed up, an’ then he prances raound an’ 
uses sech big words that ye can’t tell what 
he’s a-drivin’ at. He commenced the fust 
thing this mornin’; woke up with the idee 
that he’d got ter use some big words er bust. 

“‘Good mornin’! Good mornin’!’ he 
screeched. ‘ Hev ye noticed the air? I rose 
with the sun this mornin’, and the air is so 


JABEZ BRIMBLECOM’8 SCHEME 137 


rary-fyin’ that I feel ’s ef I could fly e£ I 
tried.’ 

“ ‘ Fer massy sakes, don’t try ! ’ says I. 
‘ Ye hop raound naow like er hen with er 
red rag on her leg ! ’ 

“ ‘ Don’t the elf’vesence er the ozone go 
racin’ through yer system?’ he asked. 

“ ‘ Gosh ! No, I hope not,’ says I, an’ after 
er talkin’ er lot more nonsense ’bout the sun 
an’ the dew, the mornin’ zephyrs an’ sich, 
he went daown taown, an’ I was glad of it. 
I’m some pleased ter hev five minutes ter 
myself, fer I don’t admire Sabriny’s hus- 
band, an’ I don’t love Sabriny as I s’pose 
I’d oughter, bein’s she’s my cousin, an’ — I 
was goin’ to write ’bout some er her pecoo- 
larities, but she’s just come in, an’ she’s hol- 
lerin’ ‘ Jabez ! Jabez ! ’ so I’ll go see what 
she wants. 

“ I guess ye may tell the folks I’m talkin’ 
er cornin’ home soon, an’ with regards to all 
on ’em. 

“ I’m yours fer luck. 


“ Jabez Brimblecom.” 


138 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


Eoars of laughter greeted the quaint, 
characteristic letter. It was as if Jabez had 
been with them, relating his experiences 
during his visit, and describing Sabriny’s 
whims. Jabez had spelled his letter as he 
would have pronounced it, and Silas Barnes 
had read it in a manner which had shown 
its droll points to the best advantage. 

“ I guess I’ll hev ter be packin’ my carpet- 
bag, Sabriny,” Jabez remarked one morning. 
Sabriny tried to hide her emotion, but her 
relief and delight were very evident in her 
voice as she said : 

‘‘ Ye ain’t thinkin’ er leavin’ us, be ye? ” 

“ Wal, yes ; I guess so,” Jabez replied. “ I 
guess Mis’ Brimblecom would like ter see 
me, an’ without critersizin’ your cookin’ I 
mus’ say I’m hankerin’ fer some er hern. Ye 
mus’n’t take on, though,” he continued, “ fer 
before ye kin turn raound like as not I’ll be 
writin’ ter say I’m cornin’ agin. Ye see, 
Sabriny, ev’ry time ye visit us I’ll come an’ 
return the visit, an’ mebbe sometimes I’ll 
stay with ye longer’n ye stay with us.” 


JABEZ BRIMBLECOM’S SCHEME 139 


“ I shouldn’t wonder ef I’d better stay in 
the city altogether,” Sabriny answered. 

I seem ter think that the air agrees with 
me.” 

‘‘Jest as ye like,” said Jabez; “but re- 
member I feel reel friendly, an’, as I said. 
I’ll return ev’ry visit ye make. Ef ye stay 
with us in the snmmer. I’ll come prompt ter 
spend the early fall with ye. An’ one thing 
I’ll promise ye: ye won’t be bothered with 
wond’rin’ haow ter make the time fly, fer 
I’ll And chores ’nough ter keep yer busy the 
hull time. Ye kin feed hens er hogs, I don’t 
keer which, an’ ye kin hoe pertaters; they 
do say hoein’ is reel healthy, er ye kin pick 
pertater bugs, an’ they’s alius weedin’ ter 
fall back onter when ye do’no’ what else 
ter do.” 

Sabriny’s face was a study. Anger, dis- 
gust, impatience, were alternately displayed, 
and when she spoke her words filled Jabez 
with delight. 

“ I shouldn’t wonder ef I stayed right here 
in this ’ere flat fer years, ’thout even lookin’ 
at the country,” she said. 


CHAPTER VIII 


A FAMILIAR FACE 

It was with light footsteps that Randy 
sped along the shady road toward home. 
She had wondered if Matthew Langdon 
would advise her, if he would be interested ; 
now she believed that no one could have 
been more kind than he had been. He 
would help her, and she, with his guidance, 
would accomplish so much that later she 
would return to Aunt Prudence with the 
delightful news that competent help had 
been hired, and that the farm was truly 
flourishing. 

She wondered if Dave Skinner and his 
wife would insist upon staying. They had 
so often told of all which the place lacked, of 
what an unattractive farm it was to live 
upon, that one might think that they would 
be very glad to obtain another position. 

140 


A FAMILIAR FACE 


141 


Eandy’s questionings were answered as 
soon as she reached home. She laid her hand 
upon the gate and paused to look at the tall 
clump of phlox which seemed to flourish in 
spite of neglect. She heard voices from be- 
hind the clambering vines, where the open 
kitchen window was nearly concealed by 
leafage. 

“ Wal, I ain’t goin’ ter stay here ’nother 
day. I’m what they calls a expert farmer, 
an’ you’re good ’nough cook fer anybody, an’ 
I say we’d ought ter take the sitiwation.” 

“ But Kandy ’d think we was jest pesky 
mean ef we didn’t stay an’ give her notice.” 

An’ while we’re waitin’ ter do that we’ll 
lose the chance we’re offered. Six dollars 
a week an’ faound ain’t picked off’n ev’ry 
bush.” 

“ Wal, I s’pose you kin tell her we want 
ter git aout, an’ see what she says.” 

Kandy hastened up the walk. A day be- 
fore she would not have known what to do ; 
now she had no cause to hesitate. 

As she opened the door, Dave Skinner 


142 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


sneaked out into the back garden, leaving 
his wife to tell Randy as much, or as little, 
as she chose. She was wondering how to 
begin, when Randy spared her the task of 
deciding by saying : 

“ I was coming up the walk, and I could 
not help hearing what you were saying. 
How soon would you like to go? ” 

Her manner was so calm, and the question 
so unexpected, that Mrs. Skinner turned 
quickly about to look at Randy, while her 
reply was but an ejaculation. 

“ Wal, for the land’s sake ! ” 

“ I heard Mr. Skinner say that he was 
sure that the place which had been offered 
him was much better than this, and you need 
stay here but a few days.” 

It was not strange that Mrs. Skinner was 
surprised. She had thought of telling 
Randy of their intention of leaving, and she 
had expected tears and remonstrance. As 
it was, Randy had overheard the conversa- 
tion and appeared to be willing, even eager, 
for their departure. 


A FAMILIAR FACE 


143 


At once the situation changed. Dave 
Skinner and his wife began to wonder if, 
after all, the new place would have the at- 
tractions of the one they now held. 

Kandy did not demand an immediate 
statement as to what they would do, because 
she did not know what plans Matthew Lang- 
don might wish to make, or how long it 
might be before a man could be found who 
could assume the care of the farm, or a suit- 
able woman for the home. 

She had happy dreams that night, how- 
ever, for was not Mr. Langdon coming in 
the morning, and had he not looked suffi- 
ciently brave and strong to cope with diffi- 
culties which to her looked unconquerable? 

Those who were pretending to care for the 
farm had refused to listen to the voice of a 
girl. 

Matthew Langdon was a man of his word. 
He had said that he would arrive promptly, 
and Randy believed that she would see him 
coming up the walk early in the forenoon. 


144 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


At daybreak the sound of voices in the gar- 
den awakened her. She glanced at the tiny 
clock upon her bureau. 

“ Six o’clock/’ she whispered. “ Who 
would be out in the garden at this time? ” 

She knew that upon her father’s large 
farm the men were at work long before six, 
but Dave Skinner and his wife declared that 
hour to be too early, and never arose until 
an hour and a half later. Could they be 
hastening their departure? Were they 
sneaking away before she came down to 
breakfast? 

She arose and hastened toward the win- 
dow, keeping behind the muslin curtain that 
it might screen her. Truly, it was a sur- 
prising scene which she beheld. In the gate- 
way stood Matthew Langdon, apparently to 
oversee the work which was being done. 
Two sturdy youths were weeding the garden 
beds which bordered the walk, while a man 
was trimming the vines which overhung the 
doorway. 

“ Look aout, Jim ! Them ’ere pusleys has 


A FAMILIAR FACE 


145 


got ter come up, but don’t yank them ’stur- 
tiums ’long with ’em,” directed Matthew; 
then to the other boy he shouted another 
order. 

“Don’t leave any one er them sorrels; 
they’ll choke them larkspurs all ter pieces. 
I say ! Leave some er them vines ter the left, 
an’ slip er few pieces of them loppy ones on 
the other side er the doorway. Soon’s ye’ve 
finished here we’ll set to an’ get ev’ry weed 
out’n the pertater patch ; they’s more 
weeds ’n pertaters naow, but I guess er leetle 
decent work will set the plants er-goin’.” 

A window fiew open, pushed upward by a 
hasty hand. A frowsy head was thrust out, 
while its owner shouted : 

“ Here ! What yer doin’? ” 

Matthew Langdon looked toward the oc- 
cupant of the window. 

“ Tamin’ over a new leaf,” he said. 

“ Do’no’ what yer mean, but ye’ve no right 
ter be doin’ nothin’ here.” 

“ Much right as ye hev,” Langdon replied, 
“ fer I ain’t chargin’ nothin’, an’ ye’ve been 


146 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


receivin’ wages fer doin’ nothin’ fer some 
time, so I’ve beared.” 

“ We’ve had all we want on’t, me ’n’ Mis’ 
Skinner,” was the sullen answer. 

“ Ye can’t git aout any sooner’n I’d like,” 
snapped Langdon ; “ fer, as I said, I’m er 
tamin’ over a new leaf, an’ it won’t be 
flopped back, neither. I ain’t goin’ ter ask 
yer ter hurry, but I tell ye naow, ye couldn’t 
git aout any too quick to please me.” 

In lieu of an answer the window was 
closed with a bang. 

Dave Skinner had had dealings with 
Matthew Langdon, and knew him to be a 
determined man, who might be expected to 
complete any work which he had under- 
taken. He held a hasty interview with his 
wife, with the result that they decided to 
accept immediately the position which had 
been offered them upon a distant farm. 
Their belongings were few, and when all 
their worldly possessions had been crowded 
into a capacious carpet-bag they hastened 
from the house by the rear door, leaving a 


A FAMILIAR FACE 


147 


hastily scrawled note upon the table, which 
read as follows : 

“ dear Miss Randy, 

“ i an’ my wife is sum in a hurry, an’ we 
hev gone ’cause Matthew kin do oil the wurk 
he wants ter, ’thout me bein’ raound. i ain’t 
done eny things he will be sayin’ i done, so 
good-bi fer the present. 

“ Yours ter command, 

“ Dave Skinnek.” 

When, having read this unique note, 
Randy hastened out to show it to Matthew 
Langdon, she was surprised at the manner 
in which he received it. 

“ So Dave has writ a letter, has he? Wal, 
let’s see what he says.” He adjusted his 
glasses and slowly read the note. 

“ So he ain’t done any er the things I’ll 
be sayin’ he’s done. Wal, ef he’s got ter 
begin naow tellin’ what he ain’t done, it mus’ 
be ’baout time fer me ter be lookin’ raound 
ter see what he’s did.” 


148 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


“ And you’re not sorry that he hastened? ” 
Eandy questioned. 

“Wal, I guess not. I took the lib’ty ter 
’ngage one er the best couples ye ever seen, 
an’ as they’ll be here day after ter-morrer, 
they’ll jest fill the bill. He’s er good, smart 
feller, that’ll keep things hummin’, an’ his 
wife’s jest the beater-ee fer haousekeepin’. 
As I said, they’ll be here day after ter-mor- 
rer, an’ I’m ter invite yer ter come up ter 
my haouse ter stop over Sunday. Bein’ a 
old bach, I ain’t got a reel home ter ax ye 
ter, but Dorcas, my haousekeeper, told me 
the last minute as I was goin’ aout the gate 
ter be sure ter invite yer. 

“ ‘ Don’t ye fergit it, Matthew,’ says she, 
‘ ef ye hev ter say it over all the way there. 
Jest keep repeatin’, ‘ I’m goin’ ter ax Eandy 
ter my haouse, I’m goin’ ter ax Eandy ter 
my haouse.’ Wal, all the way ’long I kep 
er sayin’ of it, till somehow I got it skewed, 
an’ fust thing I know’d I was singin’ : 

“ ‘ I’m goin’ ter ax Eandy ter my haouse, 
I’m goin’ ter ax Mandy ter ry haouse,’ an’ 


A FAMILIAR FACE 


149 


the boys I brung ’long with me was laughin’ 
fit ter kill.” 

Randy sat down upon the grass and 
laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks. 
The picture of the tall, fine-looking, elderly 
man swinging along the road to the rhythm 
of the lines which he had been enjoined to 
repeat, and the comical “ skew ” which he 
had given them, was irresistibly droll. 

Dorcas Dinsmore was a “ character,” said 
her friends and neighbors, and Matthew 
Langdon was wont to declare that that oft- 
repeated statement had led him to choose 
her for his housekeeper. 

She was some odd, an’ a sight diff’rent 
from any er the other women what wanted 
the place, an’ thinkin’ she’d make er leetle 
vari’ty in my way er livin’, I took her.” 

“ And she did, didn’t she? ” was the in- 
variable question, which always received an 
affirmative answer. And when the work for 
the day was done, Randy walked along the 
road which led toward the Langdon home- 


150 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


stead, thankful that the kind friend had 
spared her the loneliness of a day and night 
at the little farm. 

“Ye’ll like Dorcas, I guess, when ye see 
what a character she is,” Matthew said. 
“ She’s alius er doin’ er sayin’ the thing ye 
least expect. I hired her jest ter let her put 
er leetle vari’ty inter my way er livin.” 

“And did she?” Randy questioned, from 
a wish to please him, rather than from 
curiosity. 

“ Wal, naow, she did, an’ she’s kep’ it up. 
She ’rived ter my haouse on a Thursday, an’ 
upsot all my cal’lations by sayin’ that we 
couldn’t hev no salt cod on Friday. Naow, 
I didn’t so much keer, only we’d had salt cod 
ev’ry Friday sence I could remember, an’ 
I’d er said nothin’ but er cyclone could er 
made me eat anything else. Haowsomever, 
Dorcas made a hash er beet an’ pertaters, 
an’ I noticed two things, I eat it, an’ nothin’ 
queer happened. One day, after she’d been 
at the haouse er few weeks, she says, says 
she: 


A FAMILIAR FACE 


151 


“ ‘ Mr, Langdon, ef ye’ve no objections, I 
guess I’ll change a few things hereabouts.’ ” 
“ I says : ‘ Change ’em ef you want ter ; I 
do’no’s I mind.’ 

“ ‘ Wal,’ Dorcas said, ‘ ye’re gettin’ inter 
ruts, an’ ter git ye aout I’ll turn the pro- 
gram hin’ side to. I’ll go aout Monday an’ 
make a few calls. Tuesday I’ll bake, Wed- 
nesday I’ll use fer readin’ an’ improvin’ my 
mind, Thursday I’ll wash, Friday I’ll iron, 
Sat’day I’ll mend, and Sunday’ll jest make 
a hyphen between. We’ll make the haouse- 
keepers raound here stare, fer they’ve 
washed of a Monday, ironed Tuesday, an’ 
so on, just opposite my way, all their lives. 
I’ll give ’em a new idee, but that won’t hurt 
’em, an’ this ’ere haousehold won’t be for- 
ever runnin’ in ruts.’ ” 

They had reached the gate, and between 
the rows of nodding blossoms and the tall 
shrubbery which bordered the path Randy 
saw a slender, wiry woman coming to greet 
her. 

“ I remembered ter bring Randy with me. 


152 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


Dorcas, an’ she’ll stay with ye till Monday,” 
Matthew announced. 

“ I’m glad ter see ye. Miss Eandy, glad 
we’re ter hev ye with us,” Dorcas Dinsmore 
said, as she grasped Randy’s hand, at the 
same time viewing her with evident 
approval. 

“ Come right in with me, while Matthew 
does a few chores, an’ we’ll hev a little time 
’fore supper.” They went into the cheery 
sitting-room where, from the window, they 
could see Matthew hurrying in and out of 
the great barn, evidently trying to put every- 
thing in perfect order before dark. 

“ He’s a good man’s ever I see, an’ now’t 
I’ve got some er the ruts an’ notions out’n 
him, he’s well-nigh perfection. One idee he 
had was that baked beans was the thing ter 
hev Sat’day night an’ Sunday mornin’, but 
I fixed that by makin’ Tuesday night an’ 
Wednesday mornin’ the bean days er the 
week. Tickled him jest tremenjous; said 
he felt’s ef he was er free man at last, bein’s 
he’d alius had sartain things on the self- 


A FAMILIAR FACE 


153 


same day er the week, ’cause his fam’ly had. 
Naow he has them things on other days, he 
actooally draws er long breath. But tell 
me, naow, I heard ye was eddicated in Bes- 
ting, an’ know ’most ev’rything; is that 
true? ” 

Randy laughed merrily. 

“ I’ll have to say yes and no,” she said. 
“ After I was graduated from the school in 
our town, I had a delightful winter in Bos- 
ton, where I was a pupil at a fine private 
school, but as to knowing everything, I have 
never reached that point, and I surely never 
shall.” 

“ Wal, I do’no’,” the woman replied, 
“ with all that schoolin’ seems ’s if there 
couldn’t be much more to learn.” 

When later they sat about the tea-table 
Randy was amused by another dissertation 
in which Dorcas again expressed her pecu- 
liar views regarding education. 

“ Ef ye want ter say. Miss Randy, that ye 
ain’t learned all there is ter be learned, ye 
must hev got all anybody needs ter know. 


154 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


so’s extry schoolin’ would be jest puttin’ on 
fancy work, like addin’ flourishes ter plain 
writin’, that looked well ’nough jest as 
’twas.” 

“ Dorcas speaks as if she despised flour- 
ishes, but she’s got a new bunnit ter wear 
ter church ter-morrer, an’ I’ll bet she 
couldn’t be hired to wear her ol’ bunnit, 
that’s ’nough sight plainer,” chuckled 
Matthew. 

“They’s some difference between eddica- 
tion and bunnits,” Dorcas rejoined, with 
spirit. 

“ So there is, so there is,” Matthew said, 
“ an’ they’s a mighty sight er difference in 
bunnits. That new one er yourn, Dorcas, is 
er beauty.” 

“ It’s no use gittin’ vexed with Matthew, 
Miss Eandy, fer he’s alius ready to pour ile 
on the troubled waters. He knew that com- 
pliment fer my bunnit would fetch me.” 

“ Dorcas says that so’s ye won’t notice 
one er her good p’ints, an’ that is that she 
can’t keep mad er minute,” said Matthew. 


A FAMILIAR FACE 


155 


An amusing evening followed tea. Bandy 
forgot that she had been homesick but a few 
hours before, for the tales which Matthew 
told of his youth were full of adventure, and 
Dorcas recounted happenings during her 
own schooldays to which her small audience 
eagerly listened. In return. Bandy told of 
her visit to Boston, of the fine music to 
which she listened, the brilliant parties 
which she attended, and, at their urgent re- 
quest, described Helen Dayton’s beautiful 
home. 

“ ’Most a palace, wasn’t it? ” questioned 
Matthew. 

“ It seemed a palace to me,” Bandy said, 
‘‘ for I had never seen anything finer than a 
comfortable farmhouse.” 

“ Must ’a’ looked turrible plain when 
ye came back from the city,” ventured 
Dorcas. 

“ The city was grand, and I shall always 
remember the delightful time spent there. 
It was exciting, and I wish I might often 
visit there, but for my home I’d choose these 


156 


EANDTB LOYALTY 


New England hills. If the city is vast and 
stately, it cannot laugh at our sunny valleys, 
for they are full of a beauty that the city 
can never boast, while I feel that in our hills 
there is a grandeur that no human hand 
could build.” 

No one could doubt the deep, true love 
and admiration which Randy felt for her 
native hills. Her eyes were shining, her 
cheeks flushed a soft pink. She had spoken 
vehemently. She had felt all that she had 
said. 

“ That’s a ’mazin’ pooty speech, Randy, 
an’ ye said it ’most as flne as the minister 
could; I do’no’ hut flner,” Matthew said. 
He was delighted to And a girl whose pretty 
head had not been turned by the glitter of 
the city; who loved her country home so 
truly that she saw its beauties, and was 
eager to tell of them. 

“ An’ speakin’ er the minister, ye’ll hev 
er chance to hear him ter-morrer. He’s er 
likely young man, full er vim an’ en’gy, an’ 
right after the fellers what goes ter church 


A FAMILIAR FACE 


157 

but ain’t reely doin’ any good in the com- 
munity.” 

Sunday morning came with sun and 
cheer. Along the road the sunbeams and 
shadows played, while by the rambling stone 
walls the grass nodded in the breeze, parting 
to show here and there a gay little wild 
flower. As they jogged along behind the 
brown mare, Matthew held the reins in a 
Arm grasp, and devoted his attention to her 
as closely as if she had been a mettlesome 
creature, who was liable, at any moment, 
to bolt, while Dorcas chatted volubly of 
the church, the sewing society, the mission- 
ary society, and other similar topics in 
which she felt a deep interest. It never 
occurred to her that Randy was taking no 
part in the conversation, and, indeed, Randy 
herself was unaware of her own inattention, 
until suddenly awakened by a question from 
Dorcas : 

“ Don’t ye think that’s a good idee. Miss 
Randy? ” 


158 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


Eandy blushed in confusion. In spite of 
a determination to listen attentively to Dor- 
cas’s lengthy discourse, her thoughts 
had traveled over many miles, and she 
had, for the time, been with little Prue at 
home. 

‘‘ I guess ye didn’t hear the plan I was 
tellin’ ye ’baout the Women’s Missionary 
’Sociation was makin’, an’ I can’t tell it over 
agin, fer here we be at the church.” 

“ Oh, I am sorry I seemed inattentive,” 
Randy hastened to say; “ I was a bit home- 
sick this morning, and I was thinking of 
home when you spoke to me.” 

“ That’s all right,” Dorcas whispered, as 
they entered ; “ like ’nough ye couldn’t help 
yer thoughts a-wool-gatherin’. I kin tell all 
over agin ’nother time.” 

The little church was quaint in design, 
and but sparsely decorated. Eandy watched 
the people as they entered. They were in 
appearance much like the little congregation 
at home. Over by a window sat a couple 
so like Jabez Brimblecom and his wife that 


A FAMILIAR FACE 


159 


Eandy felt as if she was looking at familiar 
friends, and she smiled as she watched a 
wriggling row of children in one of the pews 
near the pulpit. They reminded her of the 
little Buffums, whose mother vainly strove 
to keep them in order, although threats and 
entreaties failed to induce them to sit still. 
She could not keep her mind upon the 
sermon. 

“ I am as inattentive as I used to be when 
I was a little girl,” she thought, and she 
strove to give heed to the sermon, but the 
young minister’s flight of eloquence had led 
him away from his text, and again Kandy 
studied those about her. 

A little girl turned around and, leaning 
over the back of the pew, regarded Randy 
with very evident admiration. The child 
was charming, and Randy was so interested 
in her that she did not realize that the ser- 
mon was ended until the closing hymn was 
announced. She had seen those in the con- 
gregation who reminded her of friends and 
neighbors at home, although the resemblance 


160 


RANDTS LOYALTY 


was but slight. There was a certain com- 
fort in the fact that they had not been widely 
different from her own townspeople, and she 
felt less homesick. 

The progress down the aisle was neces- 
sarily slow, for many who had driven to 
church from a distance took the opportunity 
to pause for a chat with their friends. 

Dorcas was impatient, but one there was 
who was thankful for the delay. He was 
trying to reach Randy before she should 
leave the church. He was not willing to 
push rudely past the gossips who impeded 
his progress, yet why need they chat for- 
ever ; could they not see that a fellow would 
like to leave the church some time? 

Thus he was reasoning, when a break in 
the group in front of him permitted him to 
pass, and with eager steps he hastened 
forward. 

“ Randy,” he said, at the same time lightly 
touching her arm. 

Why, Arthur,” she said, the soft color 
tingeing her cheeks. 


A FAMILIAR FACE 


161 


“ Are you glad to see me? ” His voice 
was eager. " 

“ Indeed, yes ; it is so good to see a famil- 
iar face among these strangers,” she replied, 
kindly; but that was not exactly what Ar- 
thur had wished her to say. He knew that 
she would thus have greeted any friend. 


CHAPTEK IX 


LOYAL TO JOTHAM 

Arthur Earnshaw counted himself a 
lucky fellow. He had been sorry enough to 
leave his pleasant home, his sister Eunice, 
and the pleasures which the little town af- 
forded, to stay for an unlimited time in a 
distant village as overseer, or manager, upon 
the vast acres of their old homestead. 

He was proud that his father had thought 
him capable and trustworthy, and he had 
worked faithfully to merit approval, but 
that he should be so long away from the 
sight of Randy’s lovely face seemed hard 
indeed, and doubly so since Jotham’s vaca- 
tion permitted him to remain in the village, 
to enjoy its few social pleasures, and — to be 
near Randy. 

He had worked persistently, and with 
seemingly tireless energy, with apparently 
no other interest than the daily tasks which 
162 


LOYAL TO JOTHAM 


163 


he set for himself and for the men whom he 
employed. 

“ For a handsome chap, Mr. Arthur is the 
hardest worker I ever seen,” said one of the 
farmhands, as he paused in his work to 
w’atch his young employer. 

“ I know it,” responded the man to whom 
he had spoken; “ he tells me what ter do, 
but he works as hard as any of us. I’ve 
watched him, an’ he’s no eyes for the dea- 
con’s daughter as lives jest across the way, 
though, if I’m not mistaken, they’re might- 
ily taken with him.” 

“ It seems queer, though, fer a young fel- 
ler to be so quiet an’ serious-like,” was the 
response. But one day a letter from his sis- 
ter Eunice had wrought such a change in 
Arthur that the men were amazed. 

“ Bandy is at her Aunt Prudence’s farm, 
which, from what they say, must be situated 
about two miles from our old homestead 
where you are staying. See if you can find 
her; she will be lonely, and glad to see a 
friend.” 


164 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


Arthur placed the letter in his pocket, 
murmuring, “ Eunice is a sister worth hav- 
ing,” and all the day he hummed or whistled 
at his work, while the light in his blue eyes 
was so merry that those who had called him 
quiet now wondered if they had been mis- 
taken. 

It was Saturday, and a very busy Satur- 
day, too. Arthur could not, or rather would 
not, neglect the work which should be done. 
He did not know where the small farm was 
located, and he would not ask, lest his man- 
ner betray how deep was his interest. 

He knew that the one little church suf- 
ficed for the four tiny villages in whose 
midst it stood, and believing that there he 
should see Randy, he harnessed handsome 
chestnut Dick and drove over to the Sunday 
service. 

He saw her as soon as he entered the 
church, and watched her attentively until 
he could join her. 

Matthew saw that Arthur was charmed 
with Randy, and jumped at the conclusion 


LOYAL TO JOTHAM 


165 


that Eandy was equally interested in the 
handsome, manly young fellow, so he urged 
Arthur to accept a seat in their carriage, 
permitting the man who had driven over 
with him to return with the buggy. 

“ Pleased ter hev ye fer er guest ter din- 
ner, an’ it’s only a short walk ter yer own 
place, though e£ ye like I’ll drive ye over. 
It’ll be just no bother at all.” 

Dorcas added a word, that he might be 
sure of welcome, and thus it happened that 
the afternoon at the Langdon homestead 
was brightened by two young guests, who 
chatted gayly and delighted Matthew and 
Dorcas with their ready wit. 

Arthur was full of spirit, and told of some 
amusing happenings since he had become an 
overseer upon his father’s property. 

Not to be outdone, Eandy told of her expe- 
riences as an amateur housekeeper, and 
joined in the merriment which her story 
evoked. And when, later, Arthur turned 
toward home, he felt bound to say that he 
had spent a delightful afternoon, his only 


166 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


regret being that he had had not a moment 
alone with Randy. He had, however, prom- 
ised to call at the little farmhouse some 
sunny day during the week, and he antici- 
pated a pleasant chat with Randy, when, 
perhaps, he might learn how deep was her 
friendship for Jotham. 

Promptly on Monday morning Matthew, 
with a number of helpers, was at work at the 
farm, and in the afternoon the couple whom 
he had engaged arrived. Randy saw at once 
that the young farmer and his buxom wife 
were very unlike the Skinners. 

Jack Fenton was a frank, earnest young 
farmer, and his wife was as eager as he to 
make the place a success. With Matthew 
Langdon to superintend^ i^at might they 
not accomplish? 

Although Randy had been at the farm 
but a few weeks, she had had many callers. 
Mrs. Jehiel Hinks had thought it wise to 
give Randy the benefit of her opinions, and 
she had had more advice to offer’ than could 


LOYAL TO JOTHAM 


167 


be given at one time. Some of the girls re- 
siding near enongh to be classed as neigh- 
bors had timidly called to meet the girl who 
had been “ edicated in Bosting.” They had 
liked and admired her, bnt her pretty, grace- 
fnl manner was so nnlike anything to which 
they were accnstomed that they felt shy and 
diffident in her company. 

“ She’s different from any of the girls 
here,” they said. 

There was one, however, who felt no shy- 
ness, who admired her, and who songht 
eagerly an opportnnity to show his regard, 
and that was young Obadiah Wilson. 

Thrice since their meeting he had strolled 
over to the farm, but he had not seen Eandy. 

The first time, Mrs. Skinner had chased 
him across lots, believing that his appear- 
ance in the neighborhood meant mis- 
chief. The second time, Dave was in the 
yard. 

“ Look here, sonny, ye make tracks fer 
home,” and Obadiah obeyed. 

The third time, Randy was entertaining 


168 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


some callers; he could hear their voices as 
soon as he entered the gate, and great was 
his disgust. 

That squealy voice is Lotty Ann Cary’s,’’ 
he said. “ I’d know it a mile off ; an’ that 
one that’s so noisy is Loizy Lamson’s; she 
always giggles ’s if ev’rything was so turri- 
ble funny. I know ’em both, but I ain’t goin’ 
in. I don’t like them gals, an’ I don’t b’lieve 
Kandy does. Randy’s the only gal I ever 
liked,” he added, fervently, and, vaulting the 
fence, he hurried down the road, his little 
face showing his disgust. 

I’d like to know when I’ll see her,” he 
muttered, petulantly. The fourth attempt 
was more successful. Kandy was in the gar- 
den, and his greeting was most unconven- 
tional. 

“ Hi ! ” he shouted, ‘‘ I’m a-comin’ ter see 
yer. Be ye glad? ” 

He laughed gleefully, and Randy echoed 
his mirth. 

“ Truly I’m glad to see you. I have been 
looking for you,” she said. She was amused 


LOYAL TO JOTHAM 


169 


at his eagerness, yet she endeavored to enter- 
tain him as earnestly as if he had been a 
friend of her own age. He told her of his 
other attempts to see her ; of his joy that she 
was at home to-day. He described his little 
hunting trips, and told of the day that he 
went fishing, and the wonderful “ catch,” 
of everything, in fact, that had happened 
since the day when he had first seen her. 
How frank he was; how innocently he re- 
vealed his boyish admiration for her. It 
needed but little discernment to see that that 
day of days on which they first had met had 
cast a golden haze over every following 
event. Eandy watched his bright little face, 
and listened with interest to all that he had 
to say. 

She was a girl who could fully enjoy an 
interesting friend of her own age, yet had 
enough of the glad child nature within her 
to make her a rare companion for the little 
ones who so dearly loved her. 

She did not talk to the boy as if she were 
trying to assume an interest which she did 


170 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


not feel. She was sincerely interested, and 
she let him see and feel it. She had been 
gathering some flowers, and she bent to place 
a blossom in the button-hole of his little 
jacket, when a merry whistle caused them 
both to turn. It was a familiar song, and 
one which Eunice Earnshaw often begged 
Janie McLeod to sing. 

A smile of welcome parted Eandy’s lips; 
a frown of disapproval bent the small boy’s 
brows. 

“ Is he cornin’ here? ” he asked. 

“ Yes, he is an old friend,” she said. 

“ But I’m a new one, ain’t I? ” he ques- 
tioned ; “ an’ this is my call, fer I got here 
fust.” 

“ But may he not come, too? You would 
not wish me to send him away.” 

Obadiah thought he would, but did not 
like to say so, and while he was trying to 
think how to answer, Arthur entered the 
garden. As he swung the gate open, the 
small boy darted past him and out. 

“Hello, my boy! What’s your hurry?” 


LOYAL TO JOTHAM 


171 


said Arthur, to which, with an amazing lack 
of courtesy, Obadiah replied: 

“ I ain’t yer boy, an’ I’m in er hurry ’cause 
ye spoilt my call; ’tain’t fair.” 

Then across the fields he ran, paying no 
heed to Randy’s voice, which urged him to 
return. 

Share his call with a tall rival? Never! 

“ Queer little chap,” Arthur said, as he 
looked at the receding figure, flying across 
the field. ‘‘ I wonder why he rushed off in 
snch haste? ” 

“ He refused to share his call with you,” 
Randy said, her eyes twinkling merrily ; “ he 
considered you an interloper.” 

“Older fellows have just such notions 
sometimes. Odd, isn’t it? ” he asked. 

Randy ignored the question. 

“ Obadiah was too hasty ; there surely was 
room for three in this garden,” she said. 

It was Arthur’s turn to ignore, so he ex- 
pressed a fervent desire to remain in the 
garden, rather than to spend the sunny 
afternoon indoors. He told her of his work 


173 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


upon his father’s place, of his letters from 
Eunice, and the items of news which they 
contained. He seemed a different person 
from the Arthur Earnshaw whom she had 
known at home. She was surprised at his 
fund of information, at his ready wit, his 
quick repartee. Why had he ever seemed to 
her a quiet fellow? 

Arthur little dreamed of what she was 
thinking. He could easily have answered 
the question which puzzled her. 

In their own village Eandy was a great 
favorite. No other girl was so beloved by 
old and young. Equally popular was 
Jotham, her staunch friend, and Arthur 
Earnshaw, unwilling to be one of her 
friends, sought selfishly to monopolize her 
attention. In a country village everyone is 
interested in everybody’s business, and Ar- 
thur knew that his course was not approved. 
He was, therefore, often self-conscious and 
ill at ease. 

Here, at this little farmhouse, the field 
was his. The thought filled him with ex- 


LOYAL TO JOTHAM 


173 


citement, and in a spirit of daring he made 
an attempt to render his own position even 
more secure. 

They had been talking of their friends at 
home, and Eandy had said that the farm was 
now under such perfect management that 
she should soon be able to return. 

Arthur could never remember exactly how 
it happened ; but in some manner Eandy re- 
ferred to Jotham, and, like a flash, the fool- 
ish jealousy which had been slumbering 
awoke. 

“ I don’t know why you prize his friend- 
ship so highly.” 

His voice was harsh, and seemed unlike 
his own. Eandy turned in surprise. 

“ Because he is a friend worth having,” 
she said, quietly. 

He is no truer friend than I,” he said, 
his quick temper getting the better of his 
usually good judgment. 

She looked at him, surprised at his hasty 
manner, while he, unable to read her 
thoughts, blundered on. 


174 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


‘‘ You do not know how true a friend he 
may be,” he said, his voice ringing out 
sharply. ‘‘ I can tell you he is no truer friend 
than I.” 

“ He is a far truer friend than you ; truer 
to me, and to you.” She had risen from the 
low garden seat, and had moved toward him, 
and Arthur thought that she had never 
looked so beautiful, but his anger, his jeal- 
ousy, would not permit him to remain silent. 

“ Truer to you? How could that be? And 

as to being truer to me ” He lifted his 

hands and let them drop, as if deprecating 
the idea. In an instant he heartily wished 
that he had not said the words, for now 
Randy was angry. 

“ Yes, truer to you, in that he never spoke 
of you in other than a kindly manner. He 
is too genuinely true, too manly to talk 
against my friends to me. He would never 
think thus to please me.” 

“ Oh, Randy, I have blundered ” 

“ You have, indeed,” she said. 

“ I’d better go, now.” 



She had risen from the low g*arden seat, and had moved 
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LOYAL TO JOTHAM 


175 


“ Yes,” she agreed, but so gently did she 
speak that he knew that her anger had fled, 
and in its place was regret, genuine regret, 
that he should have done so unworthy a 
thing. 

“ I’m sorry,” he said, in almost a whisper, 
“ and I’ll come again when I am calmer, and 
can speak so kindly of my friends that I 
shall appear like the gentleman that I 
am.” 

Randy nodded assent. She felt that she 
had nothing to say, and she remained stand- 
ing by the garden seat long after Arthur was 
out of sight. Then she turned toward the 
house and, entering the little sitting-room, 
sat down to think over this new phase in 
Arthur’s character. 

Truly he had surprised her, for he had 
always appeared to be all that was honor- 
able and sincere, yet he had taken advantage 
of Jotham’s absence to speak in a most un- 
friendly manner of him. 

“ He was neither kind nor true,” she said. 

Arthur, as he hurried homeward, thought 


176 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


of his hasty words, and earnestly wished 
that he might have recalled them. 

“ She was loyal to an absent friend ; what 
a coward she must think me,” he whispered, 
to which the wind through the leaves seemed 
to whisper : 

“ Hush — sh, hush — sh.” 

He listened to their soft music, and it 
seemed to calm and comfort him. 

“ I’ll win her regard ; I’ll prove myself 
worthy of her respect,” he thought; and to 
his fancy the leaves seemed to murmur : 

“Yes — s; yes — s.” 

That night he spent in restless tossing 
upon his pillow, and in his dreams he saw 
again Randy’s truthful eyes, not angry, but 
reproachful, looking at him as she had 
looked that afternoon. 


CHAPTEE X 


THREE LETTERS 

“ A good-mornin’ ter ye, Miss Kandy, an’ 
here’s two letters that my husband jist 
brought from the office,” said the cheery- 
faced little housekeeper, as she pointed to 
two envelopes which lay upon the table. 

“It is a fine morning, truly,” Eandy an- 
swered, “ and fine luck, too, to find letters 
from home waiting to be opened.” 

Mrs. Fenton still stood in the doorway, 
smoothing the folds of her stiffly starched 
apron, while, with an exaggerated effort to 
appear indifferent, she watched Eandy and 
wondered if the letters contained good news. 

She saw a bright smile part the red lips, 
the merry twinkle in the clear gray eyes, 
and thus assured, departed for the kitchen, 
gladdened by the thought that the girl whom 
she already loved had cheering letters to 
read. 


177 


178 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


Without pausing to examine the writing 
upon the envelope, Randy opened the one 
which lay nearest her hand. Small wonder 
that she looked amused. The first hasty 
glance at the opening lines had made it un- 
necessary to look for the signature. 

“ Dear Randy : 

“ I haven’t had a spare minute since 
you’ve been away to set down and write ye 
a line, fer as ye well know ’tain’t a pen that’s 
usually in my hand; ’most always it’s a 
spoon or a rolling-pin, and I ain’t sure that 
my writing wouldn’t look ’most as well if 
I’d used a spoon and a little molasses to do 
my letter-writing with. ’Twould been 
rather slow drying, but ’twould have made a 
sweet letter. 

“ And now for the news, of which there’s 
quite a batch. Sandy McLeod’s bought a 
new boss, no horse (I ain’t forgotten all I 
learned at the deestrict school), and him and 
his wife looks fine riding ’round town with 
that high-stepping critter. 


THREE LETTERS 


179 


“The Hodgkinses has built a bran-fired 
new barn, ’nough sight bigger’n the house, 
and Mis’ Hodgkins said the racket of the 
hammers interfered with her housework and 
made her so fidgety that she had to keep out 
of the house. That made us laugh. She 
don’t most usually need a excuse fer news- 
gathering. 

“ Hi Babson found a five-cent piece right 
in the middle of the road. The joke was 
that jest as Hi came ’round the corner Jo- 
siah Boyden came down the road. Him and 
Hi ’spied the nickel at the very same mo- 
ment. Ye know what a mint of money 
Josiah’s got, and ye know how mean he is, 
too. Wal, he declared that he seen it ’fore 
Hi did, and he was as mad as a bear when 
Hi kept it. 

“ ‘ Don’t keer what yer seen ! ’ says Hi, 
‘ findin’s havin’, and I found it, so I’ve got 
it,’ and he ran off with it. Wasn’t that 
Josiah, all over? With all his money, he’s 
as eager for a nickel as a small boy. 

“ My cousin Jerushy’s baby is ’special 


180 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


bright, so she says, and I s’pose we must 
b’lieve it’s true, but I won’t feel sure until 
she’s said somethin’ besides ‘ da, da.’ Jeru- 
shy says that’s wonderful, but every child 
that ever I seen has made that same remark 
fer a fust beginning, so I ain’t as impressed 
as I might be. 

“ Yer pa and ma is feeling fine, and yer 
Aunt Prudence is as lively as a cricket, 
while Prue is just what she always is, a gen- 
uine sunbeam ter be with. As fer me, I am 

as ever, « Yer true friend, 

“ Philury Flanders. 

“ P. S. — Prue is at the other end of the 
table, a- writing a letter ter send by the same 
mail. Ef Joel Simpkins lets the mail-bag 
alone, and Silas Barnes has the sending of 
it off, these letters ought ter reach ye to- 
morrer night. 

“ Philury.” 


This droll letter, with its bits of neigh- 
borhood news, amused Bandy, and she read 
it through twice before laying it down. 


THREE LETTERS 


181 


The second letter was from Eunice Earn- 
shaw, and a very gentle, tender letter it was, 
assuring Randy of her affection for her, 
telling her how all her friends were longing 
for her return, and expressing the hope that 
Arthur might often be a welcome caller at 
the little farmhouse. 

The quick color flushed Randy’s cheeks 
as she thought of the afternoon when Arthur 
Earnshaw had so far forgotten himself as 
to have spoken slightingly of an absent 
friend. Evidently he had not told Eunice 
of his ungenerous act. 

“ I will not tell her,” Randy thought, de- 
termined to be as loyal to one friend as to 
another. She was wondering why Prue’s 
letter had not arrived in company with the 
other two, when again the housekeeper hur- 
ried into the sitting-room. 

“ I brought ye two letters,” she said, “ an’ 
naow here’s ’nother one. My husband jest 
faound it in his pocket. He says he thought 
the postmaster give him two, an’ he dumped 
’em inter his pocket, but seems ’twas three. 


182 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


an’ here’s the extry one. I hope it’s as cheer- 
ful as the others, Miss Eandy.” 

“ It’s the best of all ; it is from my little 
sister, Prue.” 

Tears filled her eyes as she opened the 
envelope and glanced at the childish writing. 
But the uneven penmanship could not con- 
ceal the loving nature of the little sister. 
She had treasured what she considered the 
most interesting bits of news, but upon each 
page could be read the evidence of her love 
for Eandy. 

Prue had written the letter very neatly, 
and had asked how many of the words 
should be spelled, but about others she had 
felt so sure that she had not questioned 
their spelling, and original work she had 
made of it. To punctuation she had given 
never a thought. 

“Dear Eandy 

“ It seems a norful long time to wait til 
you come back an’ ma says you will most 
sirtinly come soon Johnny Buffum has got 


THREE LETTERS 


183 


his hare cut an’ he looks so funny you would 
not know him The barber man cut one side 
long an the other side short an when he 
tries to make a parth the hare stans on end 
Hi Babson says Johnny looks like time an 
I do’no’ how time looks but Johnny is a site 
One of Tabby’s new kittins got into Phi- 
lury’s milk pan an staid there to drink when 
she saw the kittin she fished it out but I gess 
it had drank al it wanted too Missis Hodg- 
kins was up here this mornin’ an’ you’d 
ort ter heard what she’n Aunt Prudence 
said. 

“ Aunt Prudence had on her new caliko 
dress an Missis Hodgkins said thats a 
pretty dress dont you think yor stravagant 
to wear it round the house Would you sleet 
the skool or the church to wear it round 
Aunt Prudence asked I meant ortent you 
to save it and keep it kinder nise seein it 
cost twelv cents a yard Missis Hodgkins 
asked To bad for you to be so fidgity bout 
it longs you dont have to pay for it Aunt 
Prudence said and Missis Hodgkins didnt 


184 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


look mad til Filury gigled then she called 
Philury real flipant whats flipant I asked 
but ma said I didnt need to no Why dont I 
need to know most everything I ask about I 
asked Joel Simpkins why he put oil on his 
hare and he said for instanse Whats in- 
stanse is it some other kind of greese Id like 
to be a big girl like you some day and pa 
says I will and Johnny Buffum says Im the 
same size I was to years ago Johnny is 
povokin 

Your loving little 

“ Peue. 

“ P. S. Theres some little pink flowers in 
the spaces in the rock down side of the road 
to the Senter and 111 get some for you and 
send them in my next letter the rock is 
pretty hi but I can get down the side holding 
on to the edges and the pink flowers will be 
lovely to send next time 

“ With more love 


“ Peue/^ 


THREE LETTERS 


185 


Randy read the amusing little letter twice 
through without seeing its postscript, be- 
cause Prue had covered three sides of the 
huge blue- ruled paper, signing her name at 
the bottom of the third page. Then she had 
turned it over and had written the postscript 
upon the fourth page. The graphic descrip- 
tion of Johnny Buffum’s unique hair-cut, 
of the exploration of the milk-pan by Tab- 
by’s kitten, of the little spat between Aunt 
Prudence and Mrs. Hodgkins, and, last of 
all, her wail that she could not understand 
why she was so often told that she did not 
need to know those things about which she 
was curious, was so like Prue that it seemed 
as if she had been present, plying Randy 
with questions which were difficult to 
answer. 

Randy laughed as she thought how often 
the little sister had stood waiting for an 
answer to an unanswerable question. “ I 
wonder which was most puzzled,” she 
thought, “ Prue with her questions or I try- 
ing to find answers for them.” 


186 


RANDT8 LOYALTY 


She thought of the day when, having 
scolded Johnny ronndly for pulling Tabby’s 
tail, she had tried to find a reason for ex- 
cusing his offense. 

‘‘ If Johnny doesn’t hnow it’s naughty to 
pull Tabby’s tail, is he naughty? Her tail 
is fastened on real tight, for it didn’t even 
rip, ’though she just hollered as if she didn’t 
like it ’tall.” 

A sound of wheels, followed by a loud 
“ Whoa ! ” announced the arrival of a caller. 
It proved to be Matthew Langdon, and lay- 
ing her letters upon the table, Randy has- 
tened down the path to greet him. He was 
going to the village, and on the way had 
paused to learn if the new housekeeper and 
her husband were still as satisfactory as 
when he had last seen Randy. 

‘‘ Though I hardly need ask,” he said, 
“ fer the farm looks fine from one end ter 
t’other, an’ from the door I kin ketch er 
glimpse of er row er tin pans I could see my 
face in if I wanted ter. I alius say that er 
woman that keeps her tins shinin’ is likely 


THREE LETTERS 


187 


ter hev a few other things in the haouse 
that’ll match ’em. Was ye ’ntendin’ ter do 
any arrants? ” he asked; “ ’cause ef ye be, 
I’d be glad ter take ye fer yer pleasant com- 
p’ny, an’ fetch ye back.” 

Yes, Eandy had that morning promised 
to visit the village store and purchase some 
household goods which were needed, and she 
gladly accepted the invitation to ride. As 
they jogged leisurely along, Matthew, with 
rare tact, strove to learn if in every respect 
the new tenants at the little farm were doing 
exactly as Eandy wished. 

She was looking off across the fields, and 
for a moment she did not reply. He watched 
her furtively, and wondered at her silence, 
and was about to venture yet another ques- 
tion when she turned toward him a face so 
wistful that he leaned toward her, laying a 
kindly hand upon her arm. 

“Anything ’special pestering ye, Eandy? 
’Cause ye well know I’m ready ter do any- 
thing ter help ye.” 

“ Indeed, I do,” she said ; “ but I want 


188 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


something to-day which you cannot give me ; 
I want to go home. I know that sounds 
childish, and indeed I have been quite brave 
until to-day. This is the first time that I 
have been truly homesick,” she continued, 
“ and I believe it was Prue’s loving little 
letter that lessened my bravery, and made 
me long for home.” 

“ An’ ye say I can’t do that, Randy ! ” he 
exclaimed. “ Why, ye kin go ter-day. With 
such er pair er workers, the place needs lit- 
tle overseein’, an’ that little I’ll gladly do 
fer Miss Prudence’s sake. We’ll miss ye, 
Dorcas an’ me will, but ye wasn’t intendin’ 
ter stay but er few weeks longer, anyway, 
an’ when ye look like ye do naow, I’d ’nough 
rather ye’d start fer home than be waitin’ 
fer the exact day ye promised.” 

“ Oh, you are kind,” she said, impulsively, 
“ and I know how willingly you would do 
it, but I could not have Aunt Prudence think 
that I ran away from the little farm because 
I was homesick. Plans were made for me to 
stay here two weeks longer. Perhaps it will 


THREE LETTERS 


189 


be easier than I think ; I may feel less home- 
sick to-morrow.” She turned toward him 
a face in which the hopeful smile was in 
strong contrast with the tears upon her 
lashes. 

“ Give me yer hand, Eandy ! Ye’re er 
brave gal,” he said, “ an’ ef yer stayin’ 
pleases Aunt Prudence, it surely pleases me. 
Come over ter-morrer afternoon an’ let Dor- 
cas talk ter ye. She’s got er knack er tellin’ 
quaint yarns that’s amusin,’ an’ we’ll keep 
ye ter tea. I’ll tell Dorcas ter git aout some 
er her best presarves, an’ we’ll hev er little 
jollification ter cheer ye. Will ye come, 
Eandy? I’ll beau ye home in great 
shape.” 

How kind he was thus to endeavor to 
cheer her. 

I’ll surely come,” she said, at the same 
time resolving to be a bright, cheerful guest. 
She would reward Matthew and Dorcas for 
their kindness by trying, for the time, to 
forget her homesickness. 

It was a busy little shopping trip, for 


190 


E ANDY’ 8 LOYALTY 


Eandy had many purchases to make, while 
Matthew, armed with a long list which Dor- 
cas had given him, seemed intent upon buy- 
ing the storekeeper’s entire stock. 

Randy well knew what a varied stock was 
usually to be found in a country store, con- 
sisting of but a single article of each kind, 
but every kind imaginable. As they entered 
the store the group of loungers looked up 
with interest. 

Matthew Langdon was a prominent man 
in the place, while Randy’s beauty caused 
many a villager who had seen her at church 
to turn now and gaze more closely at her 
sweet face. Matthew took the list from his 
capacious pocket and proceeded to read it. 
Dorcas had not classified the articles; she 
had written them as they occurred to her, 
and a comically arranged list it was. Mat- 
thew read it in a drawling sing-song. 

“ She wants er Jug er m’lasses ’n er good- 
sized hair-brush, er box er salt, an’ er spool 
er twist (I declare, she’s fergot to say what 
color, so gimme anything), ef Dorcas wants 


THREE LETTERS 


191 


twist she’s goin’ ter hev it er I’ll git er twist, 
an’ ’twon’t be on er spool, neither; half- 
dozen pie-plates, an’ ’leven yards er un- 
bleached cotton, er paound er washin’ pow- 
der, an’ er ball er wickin’, er package er 
starch, an’ er pattern er yer newest caliker ; 
I guess that’s all.” 

While the order was being filled, Kandy, 
in the doorway, looked off across the wind- 
ing road with its rambling stone wall, across 
the fields, and yet farther to the hills upon 
whose rugged sides the sunlight lay, and 
knew that beyond, yes, far beyond them, lay 
home — home and those dear ones whom she 
longed to see. In spite of Matthew Lang- 
don’s kindness, of Arthur’s many calls, of 
the girls of the neighborhood who had come 
often to see her, the stay at the farm had 
been unquestionably dull, and it had indeed 
required courage to stay the number of 
weeks which she had promised. 

While Matthew reread his list, to see that 
nothing had been omitted, he peeped over 
his glasses, thus furtively watching until 


193 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


he should be ready to make the return trip. 
At last the bundles were stored in the 
wagon, and the mare, well knowing that the 
road lay homeward, made better speed than 
when they had started out. 

Matthew knew that Randy was usually 
the gayest of company, and that her pre- 
occupied manner was but evidence that her 
homesickness was beyond concealment. He 
wisely refrained from questioning her, and 
at the gate helped her to alight, at the same 
time reminding her that Dorcas would be 
expecting the promised afternoon and 
evening. 

“ I’ll be glad to come,” she said, and Mat- 
thew turned as he drove away to watch the 
trim figure as it hastened up the walk 
toward the door. 

The letters lay upon the table where she 
had left them, and the breeze from the open 
window was fanning their pages. She 
would read them again later, she thought, 
and, placing them between the pages of a 
favorite book, that they might not be blown 


THREE LETTERS 


193 


away, she left the room to give some direc- 
tions to Mrs. Fenton. 

What a busy day it proved to be ! Kandy 
never remembered how it happened that the 
tasks seemed to multiply until it was late in 
the afternoon before she was free to read 
again her precious letters. And when at 
last the leisure moment arrived she took 
them from their hiding-place and went out 
into the garden. As she paced up and down 
the walk she again read Eunice’s loving 
letter. 

“ Any one of the girls might have been 
away from our village for weeks without 
leaving me as lonely as I am without you.” 
Thus Eunice wrote; and on another page 
Kandy read: 

“ Prue came down to see me this morning. 
She came running in, her curls dancing, and 
her cheeks flushed. I thought she had come 
to do an errand, but she said that it was just 
a call. She sat in the old-fashioned high- 
back chair which stands beside the tall 


194 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


clock in our sitting-room. She had her hat 
in her hand and sat swinging her feet. She 
was so unusually silent that mamma asked 
her what she was thinking about. 

“ ‘ ’Bout my Randy,’ she said. ‘ I missed 
her to-day more’n any day, an’ I kept stop- 
ping to listen to our clock, and I tell you it 
says “ Randy ! Randy ! ” every time it ticks. 
So I came down here to listen to yours, and 
it says the same thing, only some diff’ent. 
Your clock says “ Ran — dy ! Ran — dy ! 
Ran — Ran — Ran — dy ! ” Oh, I can’t stay 
and listen to it,’ and she ran from the house, 
her little hands covering her ears. I called 
to her to come back, thinking that I might 
talk to her and cheer her, hut she only shook 
her head and kept on running up the road 
toward home.” 

“ Dear little Prue,” Randy whispered, as 
she replaced Eunice’s letter in its envelope 
and unfolded Prue’s, to read once more it’s 
loving message. Then, for the first time, she 
saw its hastily scrawled postscript. Randy 
was puzzled. What could Prue mean? The 



She extended her hands and lifted her eyes in mute 
supplication. — Page 195. 


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THREE LETTERS 


195 


road to the Centre was a level thoroughfare, 
with neither rock, cliff, nor bowlder marring 
its regularity, yet the little sister spoke of 
tiny pink blossoms growing in its crevices. 
Suddenly the letter dropped from Randy’s 
hand, and the color left her cheeks. 

“ The mill-road to the Centre ! ” she whis- 
pered; “ the great cliff on the mill-road! ” 

Like a flash she recalled the pink blossoms 
which Jotham had once gathered there, mak- 
ing his way down the side of the crag and 
with difficulty returning with the fairy-like 
blooms for her. If little Prue had attempted 
the feat! 

She extended her hands and lifted her 
eyes in mute supplication, for in her fear 
for Prue’s safety her lips refused to utter 
the prayer which her heart sent forth to One 
who understands before a word is spoken. 
It seemed as if the power to move had left 
her. How long she had stood she never 
knew, when suddenly a wild desire to know 
if Prue were safe sent the color back to her 
cheeks, while the thought that, at all costs. 


196 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


she must hasten to her lent wings to her 
feet. She ran toward the house, in at the 
open door, and through the rooms, in search 
of the housekeeper. At last she found her, 
busily engaged in mixing food for the 
chickens. 

“Lan’, Miss Randy! Ye nigh made me 
hop. I was jest thinkin’ I’d call ye ter come 
an’ take a look at the — fer goodness sake! 
What kin I do fer ye? Whatever makes ye 
look so?” She set down the pan of meal, 
and hastening to Randy laid a strong arm 
about her. 

“ There, there, somebody er suthin’ has 
frightened ye, but ye’re all right naow. Set 
daown an’ tell me ’bout it.” 

But Randy could not do that. 

“ I cannot wait to sit and talk,” she said ; 
“ I must go home to-night, and I must not 
waste a moment which might make it possi- 
ble for me to reach the depot. Come to my 
room with me, and while I am dressing I’ll 
tell you why I am in such haste.” 

The good woman followed Randy, her 


THREE LETTERS 


197 


kindly face expressing the deep concern 
which she felt. 

And while in greatest haste Randy thrust 
her garments into her trunk she explained 
how Prue’s postscript had alarmed her. 

An expression of relief passed over Mrs. 
Fenton’s face. 

“Why, Miss Randy, don’t let that make 
ye start off in such er rush,” she said ; “ like 
’nough yer little sister has fergot all ’bout 
it, an’, anyway, there’s ’nough folks there 
ter stop her from doin’ of it. She’s safe an’ 
sound. I’ll warrant ye. Why, ef ye want ter 
go, ye’d ’nough better wait till ter-morrer, 
an’ start off bright an’ early. See what er 
way ye’ll git outer the train with yer whole 
idee that suthin’s gone an’ happened ter her. 
Mebbe in the daylight ye’d feel more 
cheerful.” 

It was useless to try to calm her, or to 
persuade her to wait for a morning train. 
She thanked the good woman for her effort 
to comfort her, but paused not for a moment 
in her hasty packing. 


CHAPTEE XI 


THE RETURN 

Matthew Langdon proved himself to be 
the kind friend that he had been from the 
first. He said never a word of disapproval 
of Kandy’s sudden leave-taking.. She had 
sent a hasty note to him, telling him of the 
postscript which had alarmed her, and of 
her intense longing to return to her little 
sister whom she feared had been injured. 
She had begged him to drive her to the sta- 
tion, and he had harnessed the horse and 
arrived at the door before she had finished 
packing. 

“ You must have thought me hasty and 
easily frightened,” Randy said ; “ but, truly, 
Prue’s letter has made it impossible for me 
to stay. I feel sure that she has been hurt, 
and it seemed as if she were calling for me.” 

Laying his rough, kindly hand upon her 

198 


THE RETURN 


199 


arm, he looked down into her tender eyes 
as he said : 

“ Ye’re doin’ jest right, Randy, jest right, 
fer ye’re doin’ jest as yer lovin’ heart 
prompts. It may be ye’ll find Prue’s all 
right; e£ ye do. I’ll be glad, an’ ef, as ye 
think, she’s been hurt, ye’ll be glad ye hur- 
ried to her. There’s two things I want yer 
ter remember : Fust, that ye needn’t give er 
thought ter this little farm. Fenton an’ his 
wife is good, cap’ble folks, an’ I’m er self- 
app’inted overseer of yer Aunt Prudence’s 
property. 

“ Naow, second, that I send this message 
ter her, fer her consid’ration. 

“ Tell her, fer me, that whether she wishes 
it er not, as long’s I live I shall consider her 
an’ her int’rests er sacred trust, an’ nothin’ 
could shake me f’m bein’ her pertector, even 
tho’ she wills it that we continoo ter live in 
two sep’rate haouses. Will ye tell her, 
Randy?” 

The kind old eyes were pathetically eager, 
and Randy felt that she was reading the life- 


200 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


story of Matthew Langdoa and Aunt Pru- 
dence. 

“ I will tell her as soon as I reach home/' 
she said ; “ you may trust me.” 

“ I’d trust ye, as I trust her ; she’s one er 
the best women that ever lived. We was lit- 
tle schoolmates, an’ always we’ve been firm 
friends. Ef yer Aunt Prudence had been 
jest er leetle less firm, we’d er been somethin’ 
more.” 

When they had reached the station they 
found that the train was late, and as they 
stood upon the platform, awaiting its ar- 
rival, they were silent, each occupied with 
thoughts which filled their minds; the one 
dreaming of the elder Prudence, the other of 
little Prue. 

Now, as she sat looking out from the win- 
dow at the twilight, as the train sped over 
the road, she thought of his earnest, kindly 
eyes and his parting words : 

‘‘ Remember my message to Prudence.” 

“ I will,” she had replied. 

There was little sleep for Randy during 


THE RETURN 


201 


the night. She lay back against the high- 
cushioned car-seat and closed her eyes, only 
to open them and gaze out into the night, to 
see if in the darkness there might appear a 
familiar outline of forest or mountain to 
tell her that she was nearing home. She 
believed that she could not sleep, yet sleep 
must have overtaken her, for when she again 
looked from the window daylight was dawn- 
ing, and there against the sky was the sil- 
houette of the hills whose rugged beauty she 
had loved and admired since childhood. A 
mist softened near objects and partly ob- 
scured those which were distant, but it was 
now becoming a golden mist, for the first 
rays of the rising sun were warmly gild- 
ing it. 

And now the distant hills were purple in 
the morning sunshine. The world was, after 
all, a cheery place. She was nearing home ; 
it might be that she would find Prue safe 
and well. She looked again from the win- 
dow ; she was passing through the next town 
to her own. Her excitement and her eager- 


202 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


ness to reach home increased. She leaned 
forward, clasping and unclasping her hands. 
Now they were in her own town — ^yes, there 
were the familiar groves, the farming land, 
the new buildings near the Centre ! 

As the train slackened its speed she 
grasped her bag and arose from her seat be- 
fore it had stopped. It was so early that 
there were no loiterers about the station. 
Telling the agent that her father would call 
for her trunk, she turned and hurried up the 
road toward home. 

It seemed to Eandy that the distance be- 
tween the station and her home had never 
been so great, hut at last she reached the 
gateway and ran up the walk, just as a 
farmhand came around the corner with a 
pail of water. 

“ Land er the livin’ ! ” he exclaimed, and 
promptly dropped the brimming pail, re- 
gardless of the splashing water. “ It’s been 
so lonesome here without ye. Miss Randy; 
I declare when I fust seen ye I thought ’twas 
yer ghost. They’re right in there,” he con- 


THE RETURN 


203 


tinued, pointing toward the sitting-room, as 
if that were the usual place in which to find 
the family assembled at five in the morn- 
ing. Eagerly she hastened to the door. 

“ I want my Eandy. My arm wouldn’t 
ache if I had my Eandy.” 

It was Erne’s little tearful voice. 

“ Here’s your Eandy,” was the tender an- 
swer, and the little sister was clasped in 
loving arms. Prue nestled close to Eandy, 
accepting her sudden arrival as a delightful 
fact, and never questioning what had occa- 
sioned her early and unexpected return. For 
the moment Prue had been alone, but the 
two voices in loving conversation had been 
heard by others of the family, and now they 
crowded about Eandy, assuring her of their 
delight that she had returned, and plying 
her with countless questions. 

It was as she had thought. Prue had 
clambered down the side of the great rock 
on the mill-road to gather the dainty pink 
blossoms which grew in its crevices. Johnny 
Buffum had stood below on the road, calling 


204 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


to her to be careful. She had been cautious, 
but had missed her footing, and a root to 
which she had been clinging had given way 
and she had fallen to the ground, where she 
had lain until Johnny had brought assist- 
ance. She had called Eandy while she was 
falling, at the very hour when, in Aunt Pru- 
dence’s little garden, Kandy had read the 
postscript which had so terrified her. Al- 
though not dangerously hurt, Prue’s arm, 
which had been strained, was painful, but 
Mrs. Weston thought that it was almost 
miraculous that she was not otherwise 
injured. 

When the excitement of her home-coming 
was over, Randy thought of the message in- 
trusted to her. 

Aunt Prudence and Squire Weston were 
talking together of the little farm and its 
management. Prue had fallen asleep among 
the cushions of the big rocking-chair, and 
Randy stole softly toward the window to 
Aunt Prudence’s side. 

Very gently she told the message which 


THE RETURN 


205 


Matthew Langdon had intrusted her to de- 
liver. Did the black eyes soften? There 
was a tremor in the voice while she strove 
to speak steadily. 

“ 1 declare ! That’s nigh onto the tenth 
time he’s said that same thing,” she said. 

“ Ain’t it ’bout time ter listen, then? ” her 
brother asked, to which she evasively re- 
plied : 

“ Wal, I do’no’ but I hev been er leetle too 
sot.” 

Philury was as delighted as any member 
of the family that Eandy had returned, and 
loudly she proclaimed her joy. She was a 
most independent vocalist, manufacturing 
her songs and singing them in any key with 
utter disregard to time. She frequently 
boasted that she could fit her songs to any 
occasion, and now, while getting together 
her materials for baking, she lifted her voice 
in tumultuous, if not tuneful, song: 

“ Randy’s home ! Seems’s if I’d fly, 

An’ my sperits soar sky high. 

Makes us glad her face ter see, 

Randy’s jest the gal fer me.” 


206 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


Then silence reigned for a moment, to be 
broken later by another paean of joy, sung 
this time to an original and wildly hilarious 
tune which might have been described as a 
musical riot. 


“ Jaounce the pans an’ rattle the tray ! 

Randy’s home, an’ come ter stay! 

With such blessed news as this 
Clatterin’ dishes is er bliss !” 

A crash suggested that Philury was trying 
to enact the last line of her song, and to 
prove the truth of her statement, Mrs. Wes- 
ton hastened to the kitchen and found Phi- 
lury upon her knees, gathering the forks and 
spoons which had fallen to the floor. 

“ I declare. Mis’ Weston, I didn’t do it er 
purpose, even ef I was singin’ of it. Jest as 
I sung ‘ Clatterin’ dishes is er bliss,’ I went 
an’ drapped that tray, an’ the forks an’ 
spoons flew in every direction. ’Twa’n’t 
them I was singin’ ’baout, ’twas dishes.” 

The glad news that Eandy had returned 
brought friends from all parts of the town 


THE RETURN 


207 


to welcome her, and Prue was delighted 
when callers inquired for her injured arm. 
Phoebe Small talked very gently with her, 
for Phoebe had become a very lovable girl, 
kind and considerate toward her friends, 
and a thoughtful and affectionate daughter 
at home. Aunt Nabby Ware came with 
Agatha, and they were much amused when 
Prue said : 

“ See my arm that I hurted? An’ I have 
to wear it in this thing what Dr. Bushnell 
put on, but I’ve got my Eandy with me, so 
I don’t care so much ’bout my arm.” 


CHAPTEE XII 


LOCAL GOSSIP 

At the village store, that receptacle for all 
the news that floated about the county, 
Randy’s return was hailed as a fresh topic 
for consideration. They wondered why she 
had arrived at such an early hour; if she 
had been homesick; if she had been sent 
for; or if she had returned of her own ac- 
cord. Someone said that she had feared 
that Prue was not well, and had hastened 
home to care for her. This news was re- 
ceived with marked approval, but they then 
began to wonder who would run the little 
farm; if Aunt Prudence was going back to 

be her own overseer; they questioned if 

but it would be impossible to enumerate the 
questions they asked each other, and for 
which no satisfactory answer could he given. 

‘‘ ’N they’s ’nother craowd I’m some int’- 
208 


LOCAL GOSSIP 


309 


rested in, ’n’ that’s the Babsons,” remarked 
a sturdy young farmer who had just 
entered. 

“ We see ye be,” agreed a tall, lanky 
youth who stood near enough to the cracker 
barrel to help himself frequently. ^‘We 
seen ye walkin’ home from the meetin’ 
haouse between Belindy an’ Jemimy the last 
year. We’ve been wond’rin’ which one on 
’em is ter be yer ch’ice.” 

“ Ye kin keep on wond’rin’ till ye find 
aout,” was the tart answer. 

“Don’t be so tetchy,” the lad replied; 
“ d’ye expect ter keep comp’ny with er 
couple er gals an’ nobody ax er question? ” 

“ I do’no’s I do, an’ I do’no’ as I do, but 
one thing’s sartin, I don’t hev ter answer. 
Naow, what I was goin’ ter speak of was lit- 
tle Hi Babson. Hi’s ma thinks he’s er pat- 
tern boy, but his grandmother says he’s er 
reg’lar limb. I vum, he’s no sooner aout’n 
one piece er mischief than he’s inter ’nother. 
Last week he thought ’twas ’mazin’ funny 
ter chuck er mess er milk pails daown inter 


210 


BANDT8 LOYALTY 


the well an’ then spend the rest er the 
mornin’ firin’ stones at ’em, jest ter hear the 
clatter.” 

“ Wal, that didn’t beat the time he tied 
two er the little Buffums tergether an’ ran 
off laughin’ ter hear ’em holler. Hi didn’t 
hurt ’em ; Hi wouldn’t do that. He jest tied 
their apron strings together, an’ er madder 
pair er younarsters ye never see,” said Nate 
Burnham. 

Joel Simpkins felt that he had a grievance 
and that it was time to air it ; therefore he at 
once took the fioor. 

“ Speakin’ er things that’s aggerwatin’, I 
kin tell ye one thing; there’s my brother 
what thinks he’s a genius, an’ my pa-rents 
what’s sure of it, an’ the hull on ’em talkin’ 
er the gret things he’s er doin’ of. He’s 
makin’ aout naow that he’s er gret business 
man. He’s bought er leetle piece er land 
’baout big ’nough ter build er hencoop onto, 
an’ says he’ll hold it till the taown wants 
ter buy it of him at er high figger ter build 
er taown hall. Ain’t that bright? When 


LOCAL GOSSIP 


211 


d’ye think the taownspeople’ll want er 
taown hall? An’ when they do, air they 
likely ter want it over behind all the barns 
er the neighborhood? An’ here’s er pome 
the caounty paper printed. My brother 
Timothens writ it, an’ it’s called 

THE plantin’ er THE CABBAGE 

The cabbage seed is little 
But the cabbage head is thick; 

When the seeds is in the graound 
They’ll be spraoutin’ pooty quick. 

The cabbage ain’t got beauty, 

But it’s good ter eat instead; 

Oh, they’s nothin’ quite so green 
As er fresh young cabbage head. 

“ Timothens says this is the only pome he 
ever writ what came aout even.” 

“ What does he mean by that? ” drawled 
Nate Burnham. 

“ Wal, he’s thinkin’ er one he writ on the 
big fair we had over ter the Centre. He 
started in this way : 


“ ‘ This Is the biggest fair In taown ; ’ 


213 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


“ There’s seven words ter that fust line, 
an’ he meant ter hev the same number in 
the next line, but the best he could do was 
twenty, fer do what he would, he couldn’t 
make it go with er word less, so it had ter 
read this way: 

“ ‘ This is the biggest fair in taown, 

An’ spite er what our neighbors 
say it’s nigh onter the biggest 
ever here, an’ will bring us great 
renaown.’ 

“ They’s quite er difference between seven 
an’ twenty, but Timotheus says the poet’s 
steed is difkilt ter ride. 

“ ‘ Why don’t ye quit it? ’ says I, an’ then 
Timotheus rolled his eyes up ter the ceilin’ 
an’ began ter gestickerlate, an’ talk ’baout 
the fire er genius an’ sich, till he fairly made 
me sick. Last night he was talkin’ ’baout 
the divine ’fiatus ! What on airth d’ye 
s’pose that is? ” 

“ Ain’t it some kind er belluses ter blow 
things up with? ” questioned Nate Burn- 
ham, but Joel could not say. 


LOCAL GOSSIP 


313 


“ It’s suthin’ fine-soundin’ lie beared tell 
of when he was aout West. I don’t b’lieve 
he knows what it means, but it saounds 
grand, so he keeps er sayin’ of it.” 

Joel paused, thrust his hands deep into 
his pockets and looked about for sympathy. 
No one ventured a consoling remark; in- 
stead, they looked furtively at him to learn 
if he had anything further to say. He had. 

“ Timotheus thinks naow we ought ter hev 
er head man in this taown, mayor, or some 
such person, an’ he says he’d be willin’ ter 
fill the place whenever we want him.” 

“ Don’t lack conf’dence, does he? ” said 
Nate Burnham. 

** Nate sets behind that ’ere stove, summer 
an’ winter, like a Injun in a ambush, an’ 
fires his remarks regardless,” said Jerry 
Tileston, his crony. 

“ ’Most alius hit the bull’s-eye, don’t I ? ” 
queried Nate. 

“ Wal, yes, ye do,” Jerry agreed. 

“ I guess with Squire Weston an’ Mr. 
Potts, an’ Lawyer Everton, an’ Parson 


314 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


Spooner, an’ Mr. Jenks ter keep things er 
goin’, we kin git ’long without Mayor Timo- 
theus Simpkins fer er spell, fer if them as I 
named happened ter run up agin er stump. 
Mis’ Hodgkins will ’gree any time ter fur- 
nish ’em all the news, an’ any ’mount er 
advice, free gratis.” 

They turned toward the open door to see 
who had made this speech, and saw Jabez 
Brimblecom, who had just entered. Shouts 
of laughter greeted his appearance. 

“ I heard ye, an’ I couldn’t help speakin’ 
aout, but here’s suthin’ that’ll make ye 
laugh. I do’no’s ye kin und’stand it. I vum 
I can’t,” and as he spoke he unfolded a letter 
and appeared to be searching for some line 
or paragraph which he wished to read. His 
face was puckered into a comical frown; 
evidently the writing was not very legible. 
Suddenly a smile overspread his genial face. 

Here ’tis,” he said, “ an’ ’tis the same 
hifalutin’ stuff that Sabriny’s husband alius 
writes. He must keep the dictionary under 
his elbow all the time whilst he’s er writin’. 


LOCAL GOSSIP 


215 


I don’t b’lieve he knows all the big words 
he uses, er what the meanin’ of ’em is. I’ll 
be switched ef I kin make head er tail ter his 
letters when he gits goin’. Naow listen ter 
this: 

“ ‘ Sabriny, as ye remember, is alius sty- 
lish, an’ she looks a-dorable in a new gaown 

she calls er dinner-gaown. Its made er ’ 

Naow, that’s what I can’t make out. Muslin 
de swow? Could that be it? Ef it is, what 
in time is the stuff that Sabriny’s gaown is 
made of? An’ the next thing he says is this : 

“ ‘ Sabriny’s drinkin’ deep draughts er de- 
light at the fountain er knowledge, havin’ 
j’ined er club what meets ter study litera- 
toor.’ I’ve seen Sabriny drinkin’ sody at er 
drug store, an’ doin’ it as ef she liked it, but 
Sabriny drinkin’ sody an’ Sabriny drinkin’ 
knowledge is different. The sody went 
daown easy, but ef she is my cousin, I do 
say ’t I sh’d think knowledge would stick 
by the way.” 

“ Jabez, ye’re a case ! ” declared Nate 
Burnham. 


216 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


‘‘An’ so’s Sabriny, and that big-talkin’ 
husband er hern. But listen ter this, fer this 
beats the hull : 

“ ‘ On pleasant Sat’day afternoons we per- 
am-boo-late the parks which is numerous in 
this city, but aour evenings we spend in the 
exchange er intelectooal thoughts,’ Naow, 
is the exchange er place they go ter where 
idees can be borryed, er does he mean that 
they two individooals spends their evenings 
er swapping thoughts? Ef that is it, I mus’ 
say I don’t see haow they do it, fer Sabriny 
ain’t got no idees ter spare, and the land 
knows hisn are kind er skimpy.” 

The youth near the cracker barrel nibbled 
one and slipped another into his pocket, 
while Jerry Tileston was seized with a 
coughing spell, caused by having hastily 
swallowed a piece of dried apple. The 
others of the group joined in hilarious 
laughter. 

They had heard many a wordy discourse 
delivered by Mr. C. Barnard Boardman, and 
they were well acquainted with his wife, 


LOCAL GOSSIP 


317 


“ Sabriny Brimblecom that was,” as they 
invariably called her. They knew the bom- 
bastic manner of the one and the extreme 
vanity of the other, and thus saw the droll 
points in the letter so extravagantly ex- 
pressed. 

Silas Barnes had been engaged in un- 
tangling the many kinks in a new clothesline 
and endeavoring to wind it neatly. When 
he had completed the task he hung the coil 
upon a convenient hook and turned toward 
the group, a whimsical smile curving his 
usually firm mouth. 

“ I was thinkin’,” he said, “ while Jabez 
was er readin’ that ’ere letter, what er tre- 
menjous lot er fun them two critters git aout 
er nothin’. He thinks he’s ’baout the biggest 
man alive, while Sabriny feels sure she’s 
the biggest toad in the puddle. Naow, that’s 
what I calls contentment. It don’t make no 
odds that they isn’t nigh as big as they feel ; 
they think they is, an’ the question is, ain’t 
they ’baout as happy? I declare, Boardman 
seems ter be on tiptoe with satisfaction all 


318 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


the time, while Sabriny only questions which 
is the most important er the two.” 

“ They’s what I calls er conceited couple,” 
said Nate Burnham. 

“An’ I’ll tell ye er pair wha’ just their 
opposite,” said Sandy McLeod, who thus far 
had maintained silence, while listening at- 
tentively to the comments of his neighbors. 

“Who? Which? Do we know ’em?” 
questioned one and all. 

“’Tis Clement Carlton an’ his wife I’m 
speakin’ o’, an’ a braw couple they be,” said 
Sandy, “ lovin’ an’ true tae each ither, an’ 
generous an’ kind tae their friends. Is’t 
nae true? ” 

“ Every word, Sandy, an’ that we’ll all 
agree to,” rejoined Silas Barnes. 

“ Miranda Carlton is as fine a woman as 
ye’d find, look the whole world o’er, an’ the 
lass. Bandy, is as sweet as the gude woman 
we’re talkin’ aboot. Look at her love for 
wee Prue, that brought her hame wi’ a rush 
tae learn if the winsome lassie were safe. I 
tell ye there’s nae lass i’ the village sae be- 


LOCAL GOSSIP 


219 


loved as Randy,” continued Sandy, to which 
Nate Burnham responded : 

“ An’ it’s every one’ll agree with ye, 
Sandy, even ter Arthur Earnshaw, an’ 
Jotham Potts, ter say nothin’ er Aunt Nabby 
Ware’s nephew what’s visitin’ here.” 

“ Makes me laugh ter see his antics,” 
chuckled Jerry Tileston ; “ fer ef ever I see 
er gawky spec’men, it’s that young Caleb 
Ware. Aunt Nabby thinks he’s some pun- 
kins, an’ she’s givin’ aout word that her 
prop’ty’ll be divided even between Agatha 
an’ Caleb. Naow his head’s full er the no- 
tion that he’s one er Aunt Nabby’s heirs-ter- 
be; he’s runnin’ raound the taown er doin’ 
his best ter make himself ridic’lous.” 

“ An’ succeedin’,” chuckled Nate. 


CHAPTER XIII 


RIVALS 

“ How blithe ye air, my bairnie,” Sandy 
McLeod called cheerily, at the same time 
turning in his saddle to smile at Prue, who 
sat upon the door-stone. She had been sing- 
ing a merry song, and her clear, childish 
treble had attracted the old Scotchman, who 
dearly loved children aad who often de- 
clared that their voices made the sweetest 
music in the world. 

“ I’m coming down to your house to sing 
to you and Mrs. Sandy,” said Prue, who 
could never be induced to call her Mrs. 
McLeod. 

“ They’re Sandy and Mrs. Sandy,” she 
was wont to say ; “ that’s their nicest names, 
an’ that’s why I call ’em so.” 

“ I’ll be hame in a wee, short time, an’ ye 
shall ride upon Heather’s back, while I lead 

230 


RIVALS 


221 


her,” said Sandy, and Prue promised to wait 
upon the door-stone until he should return 
and carry her in state to his home. 

She watched until Sandy and Heather 
were out of sight, then she looked about her 
for something amusing. There were not 
many things which a little girl could do 
with one hand, and the other was still in a 
sling. 

“ There’s the kitten,” she said, “ but I 
can’t catch her with one hand, and I can’t 
dress my doll ’less I have both. Why don’t 
the Buffums come over to play with me 
while everybody in my house is too busy to 
amuse me? P’raps if I sit still, and keep 
looking down the road, ’fore I know it some- 
body’ll be coming ’long.” 

She looked toward the bend of the road 
where Sandy had turned to wave his cap to 
her, and was that someone hurrying to- 

ward the house? It must be someone walk- 
ing at a rapid gait, but the branches of 
the trees hung sufficiently low to obscure 
the figure. Ah, now he was nearer, and there 


222 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


was no doubt as to his identity. Prue’s 
eager smile changed to an expression of 
marked discontent. 

“ Nobody but Caleb Ware, an’ I thought 
it might be Johnny Buffum,” she said. 

The young man walked with the confident 
step of one who believed implicitly in him- 
self, and the smile upon his vapid counte- 
nance betokened his assurance that an en- 
thusiastic welcome awaited him wherever 
he might go. 

“ Good-morning, good-morning. Miss 
Prue,” he said, his thin, piping voice remind- 
ing one of a Java sparrow. 

“ Good-morning,” Prue replied ; “ and it 
is a good morning, but I do wish you 
wouldn’t call me Miss Prue ; that you please 
wouldn’t,” she corrected, lest her speech 
might have sounded blunt ; “ fer Aunt Pru- 
dence is Miss Prudence, and folks might get 
us mixed.” 

Caleb promised to remember, but laughed 
at the idea of confusing Aunt Prudence with 
little Prue. 


RIVALS 


233 


Prue, unaware that she had said anything 
droll, looked up at him with disapproving 
eyes. 

“ Is your sister at home? ’’ Caleb asked. 

“ Yes ; she’s helping ma and Philury,” 
Prue replied. 

“ I’m sorry she’s busy, but p’raps she’d 
drap everything and come aout ef she knew 
who’d come ter see her.” 

“ I don’t know,” said Prue, with provok- 
ing candor ; “ my Randy has some very nice 
boys what comes to see her. Arthur Earn- 
shaw’s come home, and he ’n’ Eunice is al- 
ways cornin’ up here, an’ Jotham Potts is 
the very nicest boy I know, an’ I like him, 
’cause he likes me ’most as much as he does 
Randy.” 

“ Why d’ye call them chaps boys? They’re 
as old as I be, ’n’ I’m twenty,” said Caleb, 
in a tone which, for some reason, annoyed 
Prue. 

“ Well, I call you ’nother boy. Your tall, 
shiny hat don’t make any diff’ence to me” 
she said, with fine scorn. 


224 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


“Will ye tell Eandy I’ve arriv?” ques- 
tioned Caleb, tartly. 

Eeally, Prue was exasperating. 

“ Yes, I’ll tell her,” Prue said, with an air 
of having just learned Caleb’s wishes ; “ I’d 
asked her ’fore, if you’d told me to.” She 
ran into the house, shouting, with fine disre- 
gard for ceremony: 

“Eandy! Ean — dy! Here’s Caleb Ware, 
an’ he’s out in the dooryard an’ wants you 
to come and look at him ! ” 

Questioned later as to why she had spoken 
thus, she looked up in mild snrprise. 

“ Why, that’s just what he said. He said 
if Eandy knew who’s come she’d drop every- 
thing to come out and see him ; so I just hol- 
lered to ask her to come and look at him, 
an’ she did, didn’t she? ” 

Truly it was idle to question Prue. She 
ran out to announce that Eandy would see 
Caleb, and at that moment espied Sandy 
McLeod at the gate. 

“ I’m coming ! I’m coming ! ” she called, 
and ran down the path to meet him. Heather 


ElVALS 


225 


turned her head to look at the little girl, 
and Sandy, with due care for the injured 
arm, swung her up into the saddle. Ah, it 
was fine to ride upon the back of the beauti- 
ful Heather! How daintily she stepped, 
sometimes turning her head toward Sandy, 
whom she loved and who held the bridle. 

“ She walks as if she’s ’fraid she’d spill 
me off,” said Prue. 

“ Ay, that she does,” rejoined Sandy. 
“ She does step wi’ great care whene’er a 
bairnie is in the saddle.” 

“ Caleb Ware is up to my house,” said 
Prue, irrelevantly. 

“ I cannae abide that chap,” said Sandy, 
under his breath. 

“ I think he’s some homely, don’t you? ” 
asked Prue ; “ his face is kind er speckly and 
his hair is just the color of the hay in our 
barn.” 

“ Oh, ye wee lassie ! But ye’ve described 
him,” said Sandy. 

Prue was always a welcome visitor at the 
McLeod house, and Sandy knew that Mar- 


236 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


garet would be delighted that he had 
brought the little girl home with him. Prue 
ran in at the open door and clambered up 
into the huge carved chair, which she always 
declared to be the counterpart of the throne 
chairs described in her book of fairy tales. 

Margaret McLeod was ready and willing 
to tell the story which she knew her little 
guest expected, but she waited for the invi- 
tation which she knew would be forthcom- 
ing. Prue swung her little slippered feet 
and waited to see if “ Mrs. Sandy ” would 
begin. 

‘‘Will you please, just please, dear Mrs. 
Sandy, tell me a story ’bout when you were 
a little girl, no, a wee lassie, in bonnie Scot- 
land? ” 

“Ah, bless ye, yes. I’ll tell ye a tale o’ 
Scotland since it always gies ye pleasure.” 

And while Prue was enraptured with the 
delightful stories which Margaret McLeod 
quaintly told, Randy was an enforced lis- 
tener to a flattering description of himself 
which Caleb Ware was giving. 


BIVALS 


m 

Caleb was very happy, because he always 
enjoyed hearing himself talk, and he con- 
sidered that he was speaking of an interest- 
ing subject. 

“ Naow, I^m er pooty nice sort er chap, 
bein’s I’m straight as er string, belong ter 
er good fam’ly, gen’rous ter er fault, an’ I’m 
ter hev the prop’ty ter be gen’rous with.” 

Eandy smiled, and Caleb thought that en- 
couraging. It did not occur to him that pos- 
sibly she was amused. 

“ I do’no’s ye know it, but I’m ter hev half 
er Aunt Nabby Ware’s prop’ty, an’ that’s 
sartin, fer she’s made her will so. That’s 
pooty middlin’ sure, ain’t it?” 

“ I don’t think it’s nice to be making cal- 
culations upon the property while Aunt 
Nabby is living,” Eandy ventured. She 
knew that Caleb possessed a lively temper, 
yet, at the risk of vexing him, she spoke. 
It seemed to her that it certainly denoted 
a lack of feeling to boast of the fortune 
which Aunt Nahby would leave to him. 
She wondered if Caleb would be able to 


228 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


wait patiently for his anticipated wealth. 
Mrs. Ware was not old. It might be many 
years before a penny of her fortune would 
be in her nephew’s grasping hands. 

“ I don’t call it cal’latin’ when it’s as 
good as mine now.” 

Randy made no reply; she had not 
changed her opinion. 

“An’, any way, Miss Randy, I ain’t yet 
spoke er the arrant what brung me here. 
They’s to be the Harvest Fest’val in the 
leetle hall daown ter the Centre, an’ will 
ye honor me with yer comp’ny? I’d be 
some pleased ter be yer escort.” 

Caleb made the little speech in a manner 
which told Randy that he felt that he was 
conferring a very great favor. 

“ Thank you,” she said, “ but I have al- 
ready accepted an invitation for the 
Festival.” 

“ S’pose I kin guess who ’tis ’ithout try- 
in’ very hard,” Caleb replied, his voice be- 
traying his irritation ; “ it’s sure ter be 
Jotham ye’re goin’ with ; he’s alius on hand 


RIVALS 


329 


ter ax ye ’fore the rest of us kin ketch our 
breath.” 

“ Jotham has gone to Boston on a busi- 
ness trip for his father, and does not expect 
to return in time to attend the Festival.” 

Caleb became more inquisitive than be- 
fore. He glanced at Bandy, but decided 
not to question her as to who the happy 
youth might be. He was wild to know, but 
it was evident that Randy did not think it 
necessary to tell him. 

He bade Randy a curt “Good-morning,” 
and hurried down the road, a very different 
appearing youth from the one who, an hour 
before, had walked buoyantly up the path 
with the confident belief that his invitation 
would be accepted, that he would attend 
the Festival as the escort of the loveliest girl 
in the town. 

Caleb was a natural blunderer, and his 
self-esteem caused him to do and say many 
things of which he would never have been 
guilty had he possessed less egotism and a 
bit of tact. 


230 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


He was very angry, not with Eandy, but 
with that lucky youth, whoever he might 
be, who had so early proffered his invi- 
tation. 

Why had not Randy waited before accept- 
ing? She might have known that he would 
ask her to accompany him. Thus he argued 
as he hastened along, his annoyance increas- 
ing with every step. It was his habit to 
glance up at the houses which he passed to 
see if the occupants were casting admiring 
glances at him, but to-day his mind was so 
filled with the matter which vexed him that 
he looked neither to the right nor the left, 
and was unaware that anyone was ap- 
proaching. 

A tall, rugged-looking girl had turned the 
curve of the road, and with bright eyes fixed 
upon Caleb, was rapidly coming toward 
him. Her yellow hair was twisted into a 
tight knot below her hat, and her short skirt 
showed the resolute tread of feet in their 
stout, thick-soled shoes. 

“ Hornin’, Caleb ; no, ’sense me, Mr. 


RIVALS 


231 


Ware,” she corrected, as she espied the shin- 
ing silk hat. 

“ Mornin’, B’lindy, I mean Miss Bahson,” 
Caleb replied, mimicking her manner. Both 
laughed; she in good-natured amusement, 
he, because her merry laugh was contagious. 
There was a moment’s pause before either 
spoke, and in that interval a bright idea 
flitted through Caleb’s mind. He would in- 
vite Belinda ; Bandy need not imagine that 
it was difficult for him to secure a fair part- 
ner for the evening’s pleasure. 

“ May I hev the pleasure er yer comp’ny 
at the Fest’val, Belindy? ” he asked. 

A quick flush of pleasure tinged the girl’s 
cheek. Her red lips parted, and she was 
about to answer Caleb that she would be 
delighted to accompany him when Caleb, as 
usual, blundered. 

“ I wish ye’d let me take ye, B’lindy ; 
’twould tickle me tremenjous, bein’s I axed 
Bandy Weston fust, an’ so’s she’s goin’ with 
somebody else, why, I thought I’d ax the 
fust gal I seen, an’ that’s you.” 


333 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


Was there ever such a bungler? Belinda’s 
cheery smile changed to an angry frown. 
An instant she glared at him. 

“Well, Caleb Ware! So ye’re givin’ me 
er second-hand invitation, are ye? Let me 
tell ye, ye kin go to the Fest’val alone, fer 
all me, er p’raps ye kin find some girl that’ll 
be pleased ter ’comp’ny ye, but it won’t be 
me! ” 

She stamped her foot smartly as she ut- 
tered the last word, then turned abruptly 
and tramped up the road toward home, leav- 
ing the surprised and discomfited swain to 
wonder what had caused the outburst. 

“What on airthf ” muttered Caleb, as he 
stared at her receding figure. “ What’d I 
do, I’d like to know? Thought she’d feel 
quite sot up ef I was willin’ ter take her. 
Wal, girls is queer critters.” 

Belinda, becoming more and more angry 
with every foot of ground which she trav- 
ersed, reached home in a state of fury. 
Jemima, in the doorway, saw her sister com- 
ing, and saw, too, at a glance, that some- 



“ Well, Caleb Ware ! So ye’re g’ivin’ me er second-hand 
invitation, are ye ?” — Page 232. 




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RIVALS 


233 


thing had displeased her. She knew Be- 
linda too well to question her. If she wished 
to know the cause of her anger, she would 
do well to maintain silence; if she asked a 
question, Belinda would refuse to answer, 
but if she let the matter pass apparently 
unnoticed, Belinda later would tell it in 
detail. 

Kandy, after Caleb had strode down the 
path, ran up to her room to look at the 
pretty gown which she intended to wear. 

It was a simple white frock, its short 
sleeves and open neck giving it a pretty, 
youthful look. Kandy had believed that she 
was to go with Eunice and Keuben Jenks, 
but Arthur, unexpectedly returning, was to 
be one of the party. She was arranging the 
ruffles which edged the neck, when from her 
window she heard the voice of Philury. She 
was talking with her cousin, who had called 
to see her, and, as usual, forcibly expressing 
her views. 

“ Naow, I tell ye, Arabella, ye needn’t 
talk Aunt Nabby Ware er her nephew ter 


234 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


me. I say ’t she ort ter leave the hull er her 
fort’n ter little Agatha. That ’ere Caleb’s 
more’n I kin stand. He come er struttin’ 
up here the fust thing this mornin’ ter offer 
the gret pleasure er his comp’ny ter aour 
Kandy fer the Fest’val daown ter the Cen- 
tre. Pooty cool, wa’n’t he? He was some 
s’prised that Randy didn’t jump at the 
chance.” 

“ Ain’t he quite er fine chap? ” questioned 
Arabella ; “ ain’t he goin’ ter be wuth con- 
sid’able?” 

“ He may, eventooally, git some cash f’m 
his aunt, but he’s such er mean leetle spec’- 
men that he ain’t, personally, wuth er cent.” 

“ Money talks,” said Arabella. 

“ So does Caleb, but he ain’t wuth listen- 
in’ ter,” concluded Philury. 

“ Wal, Caleb an’ Arthur an’ Jotham is 
what they’ll call rivals,” Arabella remarked. 

“ They will, will they? Wal, what they 
say don’t caount,” was Philury’s reply. 


CHAPTER XIV 


AT THE FESTIVAL 

Such a perfect night for the Festival! 
The air was crisp, not cold, and overhead 
the stars shone out like twinkling eyes 
which laughed merrily at the jokes, the 
bright repartee, the laughter of the happy 
girls with their brave escorts, who tripped 
along toward the Centre. 

“ Such luck to have you with us, Randy,” 
Eunice was saying ; “ when we first talked 
of the Festival I said, ‘ it may be enjoyable, 
but it would be twice as fine if Randy were 
to be here.’ ” 

“ And here I am,” Randy replied. 

“ And here you are,” said Arthur ; “ but 
say, Randy, what nonsense was Belinda 
Babson repeating? ” 

Randy laughed as she said, “ I was not 
listening to Belinda ; what did she say? ” 

“ Oh, Arthur was vexed because she said 

235 


236 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


that he would see little of you during the 
evening ; that she knew that you had agreed 
to be one of the girls at the flower-booth,” 
Eunice said ; “ you aren’t, are you? It’s just 
Belinda’s teasing.” 

“ Indeed, I am to help them at the flower- 
booth,” Randy replied, “ so Belinda was not 
talking nonsense.” 

Well, I call that disappointing,” said 
Arthur ; “ just as Eunice and I were con- 
gratulating ourselves that we were to have 
you with us for the evening, we learn that 
you’ve been captured by the ladies in charge 
of arrangements for the annual sale and 
Festival.” 

Arthur’s voice betrayed how deep was his 
annoyance. 

“I call that scheming,” he continued. 
“ They knew that the flowers which Mrs. 
Gray contributed from her little green- 
house would be hard to dispose of, our neigh- 
bors being people who spend their funds for 
necessities rather than for hot-house blooms. 
They think, and wisely, too, that if you 


AT THE FESTIVAL 


237 


stand behind the blossoms, Eandy, many 
flowers will be purchased which otherwise 
would not tempt customers.” 

“ But you won’t have a flne time at all in 
that little place which they have reserved 
for the flower girls. I did so wish you to 
walk about with me,” Eunice said. 

Reuben Jenks had been walking beside 
Eunice, listening, but taking no part in the 
conversation. Now he spoke. 

“ I say, Arthur ! Can’t we manage to 
seize the good ladies who dragged Randy 
into this arrangement, conflne them in one 
of the cloak-rooms until they agree to re- 
lease Randy from her promise? But, all 
joking aside, Randy, I do think it was 
cheeky for them to ask you to spend your 
evening in that way ! Why didn’t they ask 
some of the girls from their own neigh- 
borhood? ” 

“ I wasn’t dragged into an agreement to 
assist them,” Randy said, ‘‘ and as to asking 
other girls to sell their flowers, they have 
invited three of the girls from the Centre, 


238 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


so that there will be four of us. We shall 
not have to work very hard.” 

Arthur said no more about the matter. 
He felt annoyed that Randy should be thus 
monopolized for the evening, but he did not 
intend to make her uncomfortable. Since 
talking would not change the fact, he would 
speak of other things. Tactfully he turned 
Reuben’s attention to another subject, and 
soon the little party was as merrily chatting 
as if nothing had occurred to ruffle its 
content. 

Belinda Babson and her sister, Jemima, 
were not favorites with Arthur and Eunice, 
for the Earnshaws were gentle bred, while 
the Babsons, born of rude stock, expressed 
themselves at times in a manner which pro- 
voked and often offended their friends. 
Therefore, when hurrying footsteps seemed 
endeavoring to overtake the little party and 
a teasing voice called out: 

“ What d’ye think naow, Arthur? Did ye 
ask Randy? D’ye believe what I said?” 
Arthur was annoyed. 


AT THE FESTIVAL 


239 


“ Oh, B’lindy, come ’long an’ tease me, ef 
ye must tease somebody", I don’t mind as 
Arthur does,” Reuben said. 

“ That’s the reason there’s no fun teasin’ 
ye, Reuben,” she cried. 

“Ye’re a master hand at it,” Reuben re- 
plied ; “ an’ ye might use me ter practice on, 
ter keep yer hand in.” 

“ B’lindy don’t need no practice,” Jemima 
remarked, with her usual sisterly tender- 
ness, “ fer she don’t hes’tate ter speak aout 
ter me at any time er day.” 

“Wal, ye flourish pretty well,” Belinda 
retorted, “ ef ye do hev ter endure bearin’ 
me speak my mind.” 

Phoebe Small, with a young cousin who 
had been visiting her. Jack Marvin, with his 
cousin Dorothea, or Dot, as he persistently 
called her, together with a host of their 
young neighbors and friends, now joined 
them, and the Babson girls forgot their lit- 
tle quarrel in the eager rush to reach the 
hall. 

The residents at the Centre were very 


340 


RANDTS LOYALTY 


proud of their hall. It was not spacious, it 
could not boast gas or electric lights, but it 
was the largest hall in the county, and if 
its lighting was accomplished by resorting 
to lamps, they were larger and more numer- 
ous than in any of the county’s other public 
buildings. No effort had been spared which 
could enhance the festive appearance of the 
hall. Evergreen was twined around the pil- 
lars, every doorway, every window-frame, 
was wreathed with it; festoons hung along 
the walls, and at the head of the hall the 
flower-booth showed naught of the frame- 
work which formed it, evergreen hiding 
every post and crossbeam from sight. 

Great branches of scarlet maple blazed in 
the full glory of their autumn coloring, 
while at intervals the festoons of evergreen 
were held in place with a strong twine which 
fastened a huge bouquet of golden mari- 
golds. 

As the party entered they received a jolly 
welcome from those who had already 
arrived. 


AT THE FESTIVAL 


S41 


“ Think of the fun we’ll have this even- 
ing,” said a pretty, dark -eyed girl. “ Mrs. 
Gray’s flowers were late in arriving, and the 
flower-booth won’t be opened until all the 
blossoms are arranged and ready for sale. 
They’re sorting them now, but we’ll have 
time to walk around and meet the other girls 
before they’ll want us. Come ! There’s 
some girls we know just coming in.” 

She hastened toward the door to greet her 
friends, and Randy with Arthur and Eunice 
with Reuben Jenks commenced a tour of the 
hall, admiring the decorations and listening 
to the music which the local band was dis- 
coursing. 

Jack Marvin had found a congenial 
friend, a girl who once had been his class- 
mate, while Dot, never fond of walking, was 
easily persuaded to remain near the band 
with one of Jack’s chums for a companion. 

Dorothea’s flgure was conspicuously 
stout, and she often begged her cousin to 
refrain from calling her “ Dot,” because, 
she said, “ a dot is small and round, and I 


243 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


am huge and round, and you just make 
people look at me when you call me Dot.” 

“ Let ’em look,” drawled Jack, but Doro- 
thea would not agree. 

“ I don’t mind their looking,” she said, 
“ if they ain’t made to look by hearing that 
ridiculous name.” 

The hall was fast becoming crowded, 
when Sandy McLeod, pushing his way 
through the mass which blocked the door- 
way, called out in bluff good-humor: 

“ Hoot, lads an’ lassies ! Will ye nae let 
me in? An’ havin’ done that, will ye nae 
permit the ladies wi’ me tae enter the bower 
ye made? ” 

“ Ay, Sandy, that we will,” they cried. 
He laughed with delight because of their 
hearty greeting, and, followed by Margaret 
and Janie, he made his way toward the head 
of the hall. None of those assembled knew 
the programme which had been arranged 
save those who had been invited to take 
part. 

It was but a few moments after Sandy 


AT TEE FESTIVAL 


243 


had entered the hall that Janie disappeared 
behind a heavy red curtain which hung be- 
side the flower-booth. The large window of 
the booth was also curtained, and the young 
people were very anxious as to what these 
curtains concealed. Someone asked where 
Janie could be found, and just at that mo- 
ment Arthur turned to speak to Randy and 
found that she had vanished. 

A voice making an announcement claimed 
their attention. After a brief speech of wel- 
come, he said : 

“ We will now listen to a solo which was 
written especially for this occasion, and 
which will be sung by Janie McLeod.” 

Enthusiastic applause immediately fol- 
lowed the announcement, for Janie was a 
favorite, and a solo from her was always a 
treat. Her beautiful voice was being skill- 
fully trained, and her teacher had told 
Sandy that in a few years Janie would make 
her debut in the city before audiences which 
would listen spellbound. 

“ Which way shall we look for her? ” 


244 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


“ Have ye heard what she’s ter sing? ” 

“ S’pose she’s behind that curtain? ” 
Such were the whispered questions, when 
the long red drapery was swept aside and 
Janie, radiant, smiling, stepped forth, bow- 
ing in acknowledgment of the renewed ap- 
plause. Her flaxen braids gleamed in the 
light, her Scotch costume gave her piquant 
beauty a fine setting, and the bright smile 
which curved her lips told that she was 
eager to delight her audience with her 
singing. 

Mrs. Gray, at the piano, which she had 
kindly loaned for the evening, played a bril- 
liant little prelude, and then, with witching 
grace, Janie sang this song : 


“ Ladies fair and maidens sweet, 

List, with song your charms I greet; 
Stalwart men, brave youths and true, 
Vye a word to say to you. 

“ None but brave deserve the fair. 
Would you win their tender care, 
Flowers bright and flowers sweet 
Lay as offerings at their feet. 


AT THE FESTIVAL 


245 


“ Wealth of brightest blooms are ours, 

And while speed the happy hours, 

Buy of us the flowers so bright, 

Here is where they’re shown to-night” 

As Janie sang the last line, she lifted her 
hand to direct attention toward the flower- 
booth, and as she did so the little curtains 
were drawn aside, and in the evergreen- 
wreathed window Kandy smiled out upon 
the audience. Before her lay a mass of gor- 
geous blooms, and, as if in invitation, she 
extended her hands, which held a wealth of 
fragrant roses. 

Cheer upon cheer echoed through the hall, 
and then the eager crowd pressed nearer to 
obtain a closer view of the lovely flower 
girl. 

Her white frock was most becoming and 
formed a flne background for the mass of 
bright flowers. Mrs. Gray had fastened a 
white rose in Randy’s hair, and a slender 
vine encircled her head like a wreath. 

Jane now appeared beside her, but Randy, 
even with her three assistants, found it a 


246 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


task to serve all the patrons who crowded 
around the window. Truly, those who had 
planned this novel manner of introducing 
their flower sale had chosen wisely when 
they asked Janie and Eandy to assist them. 
The little Scotch lassie’s song had charmed 
every heart, while Randy, popular with all, 
proved irresistible as she smiled and offered 
her flowers. 

Hands long accustomed to grasping every 
hard-earned penny now searched pocket 
after pocket for a possible stray coin with 
which to purchase a blossom from the 
“ Squire’s darter.” 

‘‘ I guess I’ll hev ter hev er hootonyere, 
as they say in the city. Gimme as much as 
ye kin fer ten cents, an’ put it in my button- 
hole, will ye, please?” 

Randy looked at the eager face of the 
youth and decided that if the placing of the 
flowers added to their worth she would agree 
to do it for all customers. 

Caleb Ware, rudely pushing his neighbors 
that he might reach Randy, squared his 


AT THE FESTIVAL 


247 


shoulders, and, casting a supercilious glance 
toward the spender of the dime, loudly pro- 
claimed his wishes. 

“ I want er big bo-kay fer my buttonhole, 
an’ I don’t keer what it costs,” he said, star- 
ing about him to see if his extravagance 
were making an impression. 

“ Choose what you wish,” she said. 

Caleb glanced once more to be sure that 
he was observed, then selected a large red 
rose, three pinks, some mignonette, and a 
few ferns. 

“ I guess that’ll do,” he said ; “ tie ’em 
tergether. Haow much is the cost? ” 

“ Forty cents,” said Randy. Then the 
crowd giggled, for Caleb, knowing nothing 
of the price of hot-house blooms, had thought 
that twenty cents would, doubtless, cover 
the expense. He stepped hastily aside, and 
opening his wallet commenced a frantic 
search for enough to meet the bill. After 
some minutes, during which the crowd, 
which despised Caleb’s pompous manner, 
made countless suggestions, he finally found 


248 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


forty cents in nickels and numerous pennies. 
These he dropped into Randy’s hand, and as 
she fastened the huge nosegay in place she 
heard him sigh. She could not determine 
I whether the sigh betokened regret that she 
was not his fair lady for the evening, or if it 
indicated deep sorrow at parting with his 
forty cents ; she believed that the latter was 
the cause of his grief. 

A laughing, chattering group of girls 
came next. Each purchased a pink and ran 
away to join her friends. Phoebe Small 
came next. 

“ I’ve left ma over near the band,” she 
said. “ She thinks I’ve come just to talk to 
you, but I want some bright flowers for her. 
She says she can’t afford them, but this is 
some money I’ve been saving, and I’m going 
to get some flowers for her, she loves them 
so.” 

Truly it was a different Phoebe from the 
one who used to think only of self. Randy 
made a charming cluster, and Phoebe hur- 
ried away in eager haste to witness her 


AT THE FESTIVAL 


349 


mother’s surprise and delight. A tall, gaunt 
woman came next. 

“ I’d like jest a few posies fer my sister. 
It’s her birthday,” she confided, “an’ she’s 
so fond of ’em. I’d like ter buy a heap, but 
I can’t spare much money.” Her eyes were 
wistful. 

“ Can I git er few fer ten cents? ” 

Randy bent toward her, a tender smile 
upon her lips. 

“I’ll make a lovely little bouquet for 
that,” she said. 

“ That ’ere feller that bought of ye fust 
didn’t git many,” the woman said, doubt- 
fully, yet with hope, as if Randy must have 
meant what she said. 

“ I gave him a red, a white, and a pink 
carnation,” she said, “ and you shall have 
more, for see, this rose in my hair is mine, 
and I’ll give it to you. Then with some 
foliage you’ll have a very sweet little 
bouquet.” 

“ Ye’re gen’rous, an’ I thank ye,” the 
woman said, an odd sensation in her throat 


250 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


making it impossible for her to say more. 
The woman had seen little kindness, and less 
generosity, and Bandy’s gentle manner and 
the kindly act had moved her more than she 
would have cared to admit. At the moment 
the woman had been the only customer, and 
Randy had supposed herself unobserved, but 
Arthur and Eunice had seen Randy take the 
rose from her hair. He stepped forward so 
that the light fell upon his fair hair and 
handsome face. 

“ You were kind to that woman, a 
stranger,” he said. “ Randy, will you do as 
kind a thing for me? ” 

“ If I can,” she said, wondering what his 
request would be. 

He at once selected the choicest roses, 
with mignonette to surround them. Randy 
supposing that they were for Eunice, ar- 
ranged and tied them with infinite care, 
Arthur laid the price of the flowers upon the 
green moss upon which the blossoms were 
spread, then, looking up at Randy, he prof- 
fered his request. 


AT THE FESTIVAL 


251 


“ You gave your only rose to that poor 
woman because you delight in being kind. 
Will you accept these roses and wear them, 
Randy, for me?” 

Randy hesitated. It was a conspicuous 
place in which to wear his flowers, and she 
well knew that many would notice them and 
be curious as to her motive, but Arthur 
stood waiting for her reply. 

Eunice, silent, eager, looked pleadingly at 
her. 

“ For Eunice’s sake,” Raudy whispered, 
and she fastened the fragrant blossoms with 
the clasp which held her bodice. 

A gronp of girls were expressing their 
views regarding the arrangement of the 
Festival. 

“ I think this hall looks flne,” said one. 
“ I like the red draperies with the evergreen, 
don’t you? ” 

“ I don’t know but pink would have been 
prettier,” was the response. 

“ Oh, pink, with all that green ! ” ex- 
claimed a third. 


353 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


“ Well, pink and green are pretty to- 
gether. My! Look at that big buttonhole 
bouquet! Who is he?” 

As Caleb strutted past the group he 
glanced toward them, to learn if they were 
observing him. He saw that they were, and 
his spirits rose, buoyed by the balm to his 
vanity. He sauntered toward a corner 
where several youths whom he knew were 
conversing. 

“ Hello, Caleb ! Some weight ter that bo- 
kay, ain’t they? ” said one. 

“ Got much left ter treat the girls with? ” 
asked another. 

“ Oh, keep still, can’t ye? ” retorted 
Caleb ; “ I want ter hear the band.” 

Hear ’em ! With all the racket they’re 
makin’? I shouldn’t think ye’d hev ter make 
er effort ter listen. Jim Jessop is blowin’ 
that brass horn fit ter split, and the way 
Zachary Grafton is heatin’ that ’ere drum 
he’ll whack the head off’n it before ye 
kin say ‘ Jumpin’ Jupiter,’ ” was the 
reply. 


AT THE FESTIVAL 


253 


“ Wal, it’s the kind er music I like,” Caleb 
responded, “ fer ye kin hear it all parts er 
the haouse, an’ it’s so laoud ye seem ter be 
gittin’ yer money’s wuth.” 

“ Lan’, Caleb ! But ye’re merc’nary ! ” 
continued the teasing youth ; “ we had ter 
pay ten cents admission ter git in here, an’ 
the band’s firin’ all that music at us! By 
the way ye talk, ef ye’d paid er dollar ter git 
in ye’d think ye was cheated ’nless the band 
could bang laoud ’nough ter make ye 
deef!” 

The local band had many admirers, and 
as it was the only one in the county, it was 
sure of an engagement whenever and wher- 
ever music was required. Its leader pos- 
sessed no greater knowledge of music than 
did any one of the members. The black- 
smith, who played a huge wind instrument, 
had been rated musical director, but he di- 
rected only when a dispute arose. If one 
played rapidly, and another slowly, and a 
wordy battle ensued, the blacksmith arose 
in his might. 


254 


BANDY’S LOYALTY 


“ You two fellers quit talkin’ an’ go on 
blowin’ them horns,” he would say, and they 
would immediately obey. 

The Festival was voted a success. Those 
who had been present as visitors said so; 
the flower-booth had netted a generous sum, 
the refreshment tables had been well patron- 
ized, and the managers, when they counted 
the proceeds, were jubilant. 

Just before closing time Jotham entered 
the hall, having returned from his business 
trip earlier than he had believed possible, 
and thus was one of the merry party as it 
turned homeward. All were gay and light- 
hearted, although Arthur, who liked Jotham 
and admitted his good qualities, could not 
be enthusiastic over his return. He re- 
solved to make the best of it, however, and 
endeavored to be an agreeable member of 
the party. 

The next morning Philury begged for a 
description of the Festival, declaring that 
“ ter hear Randy tell ’baout it was the next 
thing to havin’ been there.” 


AT THE FESTIVAL 


255 


“ That’s jest what I say,” argued Prue. 
“ Now, Eandy, you begin.” 

Randy gave her two eager listeners a de- 
tailed account of the decorations, the flow- 
ers, the feast at the refreshment tables, and 
the little happenings which had contributed 
to the evening’s pleasure. 

“ That’s great,” Philury said ; “ ef I’d er 
been there, I’d er sung fer ’em. Not that 
I’m much of er singer, but my voice is paow- 
erful; I guess ye could er beared me over 
that band ef I’d done my best ! ” 

“ If I’d been there,” said Prue, “ some- 
body would have treated me to ice cream, 
an’ I guess it would have been Jotham. He 
’most always does treat, ’n’ Arthur Earn- 
shaw doesn’t; I like Jotham best; don’t you, 
Randy? ” 

“ They’re both pleasant friends,” Randy 
replied. 

“ An’ there’s Caleb Ware. D’ you like 
him, Randy? ” 

“He is Aunt Nabby Ware’s nephew; we 
must be kind to him,” was the gentle an- 


256 


RANDY’S LOYALTY 


swer; but Prue was not satisfied, and she 
turned to Philury as she said : 

“ I do wish I knew which Eandy plefers.” 

There were many who shared Prue’s curi- 
osity, and those who have learned to love 
Randy, and would like to learn the answer 
to Prue’s question, may do so in 


“ Randy^s Prince/-’ 


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“We Four Girls” are retained in 
this story, the interest centering around 
“ Marjorie,” the natural leader of the four. 
She has a brilliant course at Radcliffe, and 
then comes the world. A romance, long 
resisted, but worthy in nature and of happy 
termination, crowns this singularly well- 
drawn life of the noblest of all princesses — 
a true American girl. 



Beck’s Fortune A Story of School and Seminary Life 

By Adele E. Thompson Cloth Illustrated $1.25 

T he characters in this book seem to live, their remarks are bright and 
natural, and the incidental humor delightful. The account of Beck’s 
narrow and cheerless early life, her sprightly independence, and unexpected 
competency that aids her to progress through the medium of seminary life 
to noble womanhood, is one that mothers can commend to their daughters 
unreservedly. 


For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price 
by the publishers 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 


The Quinnebasset Series 

By SOPHIE MAY 

Cloth Illustrated Price per Volume, $1.25 


THE DOCTOR’S DAUGHTER 

** "^HE Doctor’s Daughter is a country story, bright as a sunbeam, natural as 
1 life itself, unpretending as real goodness, and sanitary as the personal effect 
of pure spring water. Marian is a lovable heroine; and her girlhood story abounds 
in incidents full of fun, rich in tragic scenes, and didactic without a word of 
preaching. Characters finely touched mingle in the scenes where she plays the 
grand role, producing a book enjoyable to the reader and full of promise for the 
future success of the writer.” — Boston Transcript. 

OUR HELEN 

“ '"pHIS is a fresh, rare work, and well repays perusal. The characters are very 
1 striking, and form a circle so pleasant that the reader is loth to part with them 
by closing the volume. Our Helen, the heroine, is not made so remarkably perfect 
that the example of her noble record is lost.” — Evening Wisconsin^ Milwaukee, 

THE ASBURY TWINS 

“ "T'HE construction of the story is two sided, first one of the twins having a 
1 chapter, then the other. They are beautiful girls, both, and we confess to 
having- fallen in love with them, and there is likely to be a latent Mormon desire in 
the mind of a young man reader to marry both, one is so pleasant a complement to 
the other. For pure loveliness and natural captivation the story is an example not 
by any means common. All the characters are depicted with an ease and grace 
which make every chapter a delight.” — Boston Traveler. 

QUINNEBASSET GIRLS 

“AS fresh and wholesome as a bright December morning is Sophie May’s 
Quinnebasset Girls. It is a real girl’s book, good and true and honest, 
and full withal of such clever hints of New England character as oldsters might 
condescend to be interested in. Always natural, if imaginative, full of a bright 
humor, her books will be for long delightful in the anticipation and in the read- 
ing.” — New York Tribune. 

JANET : A POOR HEIRESS 

“ ""pHE story itself is one to win upon you at every reading. We found the 
1 precious half-hours running away as we began upon it lor such knowledge 
of its character as would fit us to make passing note of its value. It is a domestic 
story of American life, and its forty chapters are each a feast of good reading. The 
illustrations are unusually fine and suggestive. The title of the book leads you 
into its drift, but a column would not suffice to characterize it descriptively.” — Bal- 
timore Courant, 

IN OLD QUINNEBASSET 

“ those who were not satisfied with the results of their own imagination, let 
1 us commend Sophie May’s story, * In Old Quinnebasset.’ A more 
graceful and charming tale it would be hard to find. Here is old Quinnebasset 
"vith its associations and memories, its old houses and fireplaces, and here are the 
very people walking its streets, discussing the electoral votes in the same formal 
English as during Washington’s time.” — New York Trihuiie^ 


For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price 
by the publishers 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 


HELEN GRANT SERIES 

By AMANDA M. DOUGLAS 

Illustrated by Amy Brooks Cloth Price per volume $1.25 



Helen Grant’s Schooldays 

“ TT tells of 'the building of Helen Grant’s life 
by a benefactress who removes her from un- 
congenial surroundings and has her wisely trained 
for a broader life, and is in every way wholesome 
and attractive. The people are real, the account 
of boarding-school life thoroughly natural, and 
the whole atmosphere of the book clean and 
wholesome.” — Christian Advocate, 


Helen Grant’s Friends 


“ TJELEN’S father, who is supposed to be dead, proves to have been 
only buried in study in the far East. Returning to his daughter, 
and finding her studious, thoughtful and dutiful, he seeks her assistance 
in some of his researches. She puts aside her ambitions and helps him 
earnestly until he dies, when she turns again to her plan of preparing for 
college. A good book for girls.” — Universalist Leader,^ Boston, 


Helen Grant at 

Aldred House 

UELEN returns to Aldred House, where 
^ she grows from girlhood to womanhood. 
When she is ready for college she comes to a 
point where she is compelled to choose between 
the career she has marked out for herself and the 
proffered love of several. Girl readers will be 
more than interested in this story and to find out 
just what decision Helen arrives at.” 

— Providence News, 



For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price 
by the publishers, 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 


THE GIRL WHO KEPT UP 

By MARY McCRAE CUTLER 


Illustrated by C. Louise Williams. 12mo. Cloth. $1.25 


This is a strong, wholesome story of 
achievement. The end of a high school 
course divides the paths of a boy and girl 
who have been close friends and keen 
rivals. The youth is to go to college, 
while the girl, whose family is in humbler 
circumstances, must remain at home and 
help. She sees that her comrade will 
feel that he is out-growing her, and she 
determines to and does Tceep up with him 
in obtaining an education. 

** The story is human to the least phase of it, and it is told with such 
simple force and vivacity that its effect is strong and positive. The 
pictures of college and home life are true bits of realism. It is an 
excellent piece of -- Bookseller, Newsdealer and Stationer, 

New York. 

“The story is well told, and is thoroughly helpful in every respect.** 
— Epworth Herald, Chicago. 

“ The telling of the story is attractive, and will be found helpful to 
all readers.**— The Baptist Union, Chicago. 

“Let us recommend this book for young people for the excellent 
lesson of honest striving and noble doing that it clearly conveys.’* — 
Boston Courier. 

“ It is a healthy and inspiring story.** — Brooklyn Eagle. 

“The tale is full of good lessonfor all young people .** — Boston Beacon. 

“ The story will be both pleasant and profitable to the youth of both 
sexes.** — Louisville Courier- Journal. 



For sale by all booTcsellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston 


The Laurel Token A Story of the Yamassee Uprising 

By ANNIE M. BARNES 

Author of “Little Betty Blew “ and “ A Lass of Dorchester” 

Illustrated by 0. W. Picknell 12mo Cloth $1.25 

This is a book for young people of either sex, 
for, although the leading character is a girl of 
eighteen, her cousins, two boys of sixteen and 
fourteen respectively, are prominent throughout 
the story, which centres about a beautiful girl, 
left an orphan, as is supposed, in Barbados, who 
goes to live with her uncle, a leading man in the 
flourishing “ Goose Creek ” colony, in the year 
of the Indian uprising, 1714. The very real dan- 
ger from the red men, who have been regarded 
as friendly, but have been the victims of selfish- 
ness, and thus made ready tools for the crafty 
Spanish having their headquarters at St. Augus- 
tine, forms the background to the story, and 
gives opportunity for the surprising develop- 
ments which occur respecting the heroine and others. The illustrations 
by Mr. Picknell are very accurate in their composition, besides being 
finely executed. 

A ^ 1 - 9 EVELYN RAYMOND Illustrated by 
An nonor Uin Bertha a Davidson 12mo Cloth $1.25 

A bright, helpful story of a girl who, as the 
valedictorian and “ honor girl ” of her class at 
high school, wins a scholarship which would 
take her through Wellesley College. Family 
reverses bring it home to her that dutj/ demands 
that she devote herself to helping her parents 
and wayward brother to face the future better 
than they seem likely to. She heroically sur- 
renders her prize, with its glowing prospects, to 
a jealous rival, and with a brave humor says 
that she has matriculated in the College of Life, 
the hard features of which she happily styles the 
“ faculty,” with “ Professor Poverty ” prominent 
among them. These prove excellent teachers, 
aided by “Professor Cheerfulness.” Kdnd friends 
are won by her courage, her brother achieves manly character, and the 
family are finally re-established on the road to prosperity : all better, 
happier, and more to each other than had selfishness not been so well 
met and overcome by “ An Honor Girl.” 

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of Price by the publishers. 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston 




American Heroes and Heroines 



By Pauline Carrington Bouve Illustrated 
i2mo Cloth $1.25 

T his book, which will tend directly toward 
the making of patriotism in young Americans, 
contains some twenty brief, clever and attractive 
sketches of famous men and women in American 
history, among them Father Marquette, Anne 
Hutchinson, Israel Putnam, Molly Pitcher, Paul 
Jones, Dolly Madison, Daniel Boone, etc. Mrs. 
Bouvd is well known as a writer both of fiction and 
history, and her work in this case is admirable. 

“ The style of the book for simplicity and clearness 
of expression could hardly be excelled.” — Boston 
Budget, 

The Scarlet Patch 

The Story of a Patriot Boy in the Mohawk Valley 

By Mary E. Q. Brush Illustrated by George W. Picknell $1.25 
I 'HE Scarlet Patch” was the badge of a Tory organization, and a 
JL loyal patriot boy, Donald Bastien, is dismayed at learning that his 
uncle, with whom he is a “bound boy,” is secretly connected with this 
treacherous band. Thrilling scenes follow in which a faithful Indian 
figures prominently, and there is a vivid presentation of the school and 
home life as well as the public affairs of those times. 

“ A book that will be most valuable to the library of the young boy.” — Provu 
dence News. 

Stories of Brave Old Times 


Some Pen Pictures of Scenes Which 
Took Place Previous to, or Connected 
With, the American Revolution 

By Helen M. Cleveland Profusely illustra- 
ted Large i2mo Cloth $1.25 

I T is a book for every library, a book for 
adults, and a book for the young. Per- 
haps no other book yet written sets the great 
cost of freedom so clearly before the young, 
consequently is such a spur to patriotism. 

” It can unqualifiedly be commended as a book for 
youthful readers; its great wealth of illustrations 
adding to its value.” — Chicago News. 



For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price 
by the publishers, 


LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 



Children 

By H. Twitchell Illustrated $1.25 

W E have here a most valuable book, telling 
not of the childhood of those who have 
afterwards become famous, but those who as 
children are famous in history, song, and story. 

For convenience the subjects are grouped as 
“ Royal Children,” “ Child Artists,” “Learned 
Children,” “ Devoted Children,” “Child Mar- 
tyrs,” and “Heroic Children,” and the names 
of the “ two little princes,” Louis XVIL, Mo- 
zart, St. Genevieve, David, and Joan of Arc are 
here, as well as those of many more. 

The Stopy of the Cid People 

By Calvin Dill Wilson Illustrated by J. W. Kennedy $1.25 
I^R. WILSON, a well-known writer and reviewer, has prepared from 
^ Southey’s translation, which was far too cumbrous to entertain the 
young, a book that will kindle the imagination of youth and entertain and 
inform those of advanced years. 


Jason’s Quest 

By D. O. S. Lowell, A. M., M. D. Master in 
Roxbury Latin School Illustrated $1.00 

NJOTHING can be better to arouse the imagin- 
^ ^ ation of boys and girls, and at the same 
time store in their minds knowledge indispens- 
able to any one who would be known as cul- 
tured, or happier than Professor Lowell’s way 
of telling a story, and the many excellent draw* 
ings have lent great spirit to the narrative. 


H^i^oes of the Cmsades 

By Amanda M. Douglas Cloth Fifty full-page illustrations $1.50 

T he romantic interest in the days of chivalry, so fully exemplified by 
the “ Heroes of the Crusades,” is permanent and properly so. This 
book is fitted to keep it alive without descending to improbability or 
cheap sensationalism. 

For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price 
by the publishers, 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 





WHEN GRANDMAMMA 
WAS FOURTEEN 

By MARION HARLAND 


WITH FOUR FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS AND NUMEROUS PICTURES 
IN THE TEXT PRICE $1.25 


Later adventures of the heroine of 
“WILBJV GRANDMAMMA WAS NBWA^ 


T hose who recall this noted author’s delightful story, “ When 
Grandmamma was New,” will be glad to hear that in this 
book are the adventures of the heroine at a later period. 
Through the eyes of fourteen-year-old Molly Burwell, the reader 
sees much that is quaint, amusing and pathetic in ante-bellum Rich- 
mond, and the story has all the charm of manner and rich humanity 
which are characteristic of Marion Harland. All healthy* hearted 
children will delight in the story, and so will their parents. 


WHEN GRANDMAMMA WAS NEW 

The Story of a Virginia Girlhood in the Borties 
By Marion Harland 12 mo Illustrated Price ^1.25 

The BOSTON JOURNAL says: 

“ If only one might read it first with the trained enjoyment of the 
‘ grown-up ’ mind that is ‘ at leisure from itself,* and then if one might with- 
draw into ten year-old-dom once more and seek the shadow of the friendly 
apple-tree, and revel in it all over again, taste it all just as the child tastes, 
and find it luscious ! For this book has charm and piquancy. And it is in 
just this vivid remembrance of a child’s mental workings, in just the avoid- 
ance of all ‘writing down’ to the supposed level of a child’s mind, that 
this story has its rare attractiveness. It is bright, winsome, and magnetic.” 

The INTERIOR^ Chicago^ says: 

” * Grandmamma ’ may have charmed other folks, — has charmed them all, 
incontrovertibly, — but she has never tried harder to be vivid and dramatic 
and entertaining, and to leave a sweet kernal of application, withal, than in 
these memory-tales of a sunny childhood on a big Virginia plantation. It is 
a book which will delight, not children alone, but all such as have the child 
heart and a tender memory of when they were ‘ new.’ ” 

AT ALL BOOKSELLERS, OR SENT POSTPAID ON RECEIPT 
OF PRICE BY THE PUBLISHERS 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 


A Little Maid of Concord 
Town 


A Romance of the American Revolution 

By MARGARET SIDNEY* One volume^ I2mot 
illustrated by F* T* Merrillt $L50 

A DELIGHTFUL Revolutionary romance of life, 
love and adventure in old Concord. The author 
lived for fifteen years in the home of Hawthorne, in 
Concord, and knows the interesting town thoroughly. 

Debby Parlin, the heroine, lived in a little house 
on the Lexington Road, still standing, and was sur- 
rounded by all the stir and excitement of the months 
of preparation and the days of action at the begin- 
ning of our struggle for freedom. 


By Way of the Wilderness 


By "PANSY^ (Mrs* G. R* Alden) and MRS* 
C* M* LIVINGSTON* I2m0f cloth, illustrated by 
Charlotte Harding, $1*50 



'HIS story of Wayne Pierson and how he evaded 


JL or met the tests of misunderstanding, environ- 
ment, false position, opportunity and self -pride ; how 
he lost his father and found him again, almost lost 
his home and found it again, almost lost himself and 
found alike his manhood, his conscience and his 
heart is told us in Pansy’s best vein, ably supplement- 
ed by Mrs. Livingston’s collaborationo 


BOOKS By ANNIE H. fiyOEB. 


Hold up Your Heads, Girls I 

12mo, cloth, §1.00. 

The author of ‘ Hold up your Heads, Girls 1 * has, in the trea.,.iciic or c 
very important subject, invested it with an interest and brightness which will 
make it pjleasant and even fascinating reading for the class of young people 
to whom it is addressed. In the eleven chapters of which the contents con- 
sist there is more sound practical advice, sensibly put, on points of every-day 
interest to girls, than we have ever before seen put into the same number of 
pages. It is a book for study, for companionship, and the girl who reads it 
thoughtfully and with an intent to profit by it will get more real help and 
good from it than from a term at the best boarding-school in the country.” — 
Boston Transcript. 

Margaret Regis and some other Girls. 

12mo, illustrated, §1.25^ 

“The college life of young women is described in this book in a very enter- 
taining way, and in a spirit the most wholesome and cheerful. Margaret 
Regis is a splendid creation of the author’s fancy, just such a you^ woman as 
all of us like to read about. In her schooldays she is not different from 
others. There is a shade of profound thought in her description of this 
period of life : ‘ She is like the many, many girls, increasing in nurnbers 
every year, who, unfixed and restless, go into college or the office, with a 
vague determination to do something that shall make them independent or 
superior to the greatest number of girls, but with no definite idea of how 
they are to use the knowledge and experience they gain.’ Margaret Regis 
does not remain long in this unsettled state. She is emphatically a woman 
with a purpose. How its current was turned from the intended course makes 
an interesting narrative which the reader will find full of profit.” — Cleveland 
Lead'^r. 

New Every Morning. 

A Year Book for Girls. Edited by Annie H. Ryder. 

Square 16mo, cloth, §1.00; gilt, §1.25; limp, seal, 

§2.50. 

A book of choice reading for girls for every day in the year. 

“ There is a happy blending of practical common sense, pure sentiment and 
simple religious iervor.** — Education, Boston. 

BOSTON : 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 


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